Paradigms of the D&D Rules Cyclopedia (or: Staring into the Abyss)

It's February 2023 already and I'm (seriously!) way behind with everything I planned to have happen LAST year. That said, I'm getting there. No day goes by with not at least some progress. Could be more, maybe it SHOULD be more, but I'm content with how it is. I'm getting there. Point in case: I'm tackling the final hurdles in finishing writing on be67, that Weird Sixties RPG I'm aiming to publish as soon as possible (if I'm lucky, May 2023 ... I always seem to publish big projects around that time, wonder why that is). Those last hurdles, however, are those really tough bits where so much of the rules converges that lots of interacting ideas need visualization. Welcome to another episode of the ...

Parody of original cover, fair use for sure ...

[Short side note: it seems that it is safe right now to at least talk about our house rules of old D&D iterations, therefore I'll keep telling you that be67 will be a collection of my D&D RC house rules mutated into a complete game ... I'll still take care that it is very much it's own thing, which means pushing a couple of concepts I used a bit further than I originally intended. Not a big thing, and still very much compatible with everything D&D or OSR out there, but this post will look at the core of some of the concepts in the D&D RC and how they relate to my version of those concepts. As I keep saying: be67 will not be D&D, it'll be a retroclone mutant of the D&D RC.]

The Game, as we see it

OD&D was famously vague with its rules. So vague, in fact, that it was almost impossible to play RAW (Ruled As Written) if you didn't have the war gaming background Gygax and Arneson had. To be precise, if you weren't part of those war gaming circles Gygax and Arneson frequented, OD&D would most likely be a mystery to you. Something inspiring, for sure, but IF you were able to make sense of it somehow without that context, it'd most likely be with a very different understanding compared to what the original authors intended.

Tunnels & Trolls (1975) is the perfect example of how that could still manifest a beautiful and complete game.

As far as TSR was concerned, they had two venues to explore: one was revisioning the OD&D toward a version that was more clear in its rules (that'd end up being AD&D), the other was making the entry into this hobby easier (which was attempted with Basic D&D). It ended up creating two very distinct versions of what D&D can be, both based on that vague first iteration, both, in a way, distinct variations of the same themes, ideas and concepts.

Now, we are talking the D&D RC here, which is the end point of that second strain, and, if not vague, it ended up being just as convoluted and incomplete as that first game, just on a bigger scale. We always knew this, I think, but the beauty of role-playing games is that it is possible to "wing it" on almost every level of resolution. Nowadays, a  skilled Gamemaster can GM a game with a very minimalist approach, no problem. They can also gain an (as in "one", not "the") understanding of a poorly explained game and make it work at the table.

As far as D&D is concerned, it means: the collective and documented experience of playing D&D in general makes for a great blueprint how to "summon" that kind of gaming experience. It is a paradigm:

paradigm (noun)

A set of assumptions, concepts, values, and practices that constitutes a way of viewing reality for the community that shares them, especially in an intellectual discipline. [source]

So mostly, playing the "idea" of the game will be close enough to the actual rules to make that approach work. But what's more: with a strong paradigm like we have with D&D and a little experience in playing it, it is easy enough to bridge what the rules might be lacking and still make it work. You get an idea where you have to end up, roughly.

In a way, the paradigm of D&D can take a lot of abuse before the game breaks (one could make the case that WotC did find that breaking point with 4E). It can also help masking some pretty major shortcomings in the rules ... which is something a dedicated collective hivemind processed and filtered most prominently in what the OSR was up until, say, 5 years ago.

What's more, while there never will be an official revision of the D&D RC, there for sure are retroclones rewriting and revisioning that game (Dark dungeon comes to mind, with its retroclone mutant Darkest Dungeon as an iteration moving away from D&D ... the latest version, combining both, can be found here). There are also tons of micro solutions to problems the rules pose and you can find them hidden all over the internet.

Some of it is about bridging gaps in the rules (perceived or not), some of it is about finding a true understanding of what all the numbers mean and how they relate ...

You want an easy example? Guns are a very specific and ignored problem in the D&D rules. At least I haven't seen any satisfying solutions to the problems guns bring to how the game is designed (the original solution, imo, was to circumvent the problem entirely by introducing wands and staffs ... but that's pretty unsatisfying to begin with).

Other good examples would be giant creatures and structural damage ... it is all there, in parts and pieces or as island solutions for specific monsters (I argued in the past that dragons give indications how we are supposed to create our own monsters ... see the argument made here).

[source]

And sure enough, all of this can be improvised in a narrative. No one would object to the idea that a dragon may just be able to do a lot of damage to structures, if it's able to bring the mass or firepower to do it ... That said, it'd still be nice to have a ratio behind it all. Not necessarily to apply it on every fictional building in a campaign, but because experience taught us that the game WILL break down for mid- and high-level games if those things need to be "winged", because characters could be that dragon (or its equivalent) and without rules to accompany that, it'll just get boring fast.

You see, all of those are problems hidden deeply at the core of the game, and if you were to write a game based on those rules, you are either forced to ignore them as well (the c/p approach of many a lazy game designer ...) or come up with a satisfying solution that suits the game. I keep saying: the D&D RC has an EPIC scope, but doesn't do it justice all the time. That can be a problem if you try to reproduce its results.

Here's another very specific problem: HD

The reason for this post is: I have no solution for this specific problem. Yet. All the pieces are there (as you will see), but I can't see a good way to condense all of this into core principles that work as a jumping off point for GMs new to the game (other than just doing the work and offering dozens of pre-made monster portfolios ... which would be a cop-out, obviously).

The problem is, many assumptions about how powerful monsters are rely on "legacy code". Some of it definitely derived from games like Chainmail, some expanded on through experience (you know it works because you threw it at a group and it worked), and build on that comes the whole rest you'll find in the D&D RC. There is no "behind the scenes" how the sausage is made, it's just a lot of sausages, ready for consumption.

Well, to be fair, it's not entirely true that there are no metrics at all to work with. There is an attempt to "balance" encounters in the RC, and it goes a little bit like this: it basically makes HD comparable with Level, which is a whole thing in itself, and not necessarily a tool of precision, considering that "special abilities" may be imbalanced to begin with. But anyway. So you take a group's total level and compare that to the "back engineered" HD of a monster (or NPC) to see how they relate. With that, you have a metric to asses how hard a confrontation MIGHT be (Tucker's Kobolds would be a great argument against that, but whatever).

Now, if the adjusted HD are, say, between 30 and 50%, it'd be a "good fight". As in, it'll tap into the resources a bit, it'll hurt a bit, but it'll most likely be a voctory, which is satisfying, and that is, of course, "good". 50 to 70% is, by that metric, "challenging", 110% (barely above what the characters bring to the table!) is categorized as "extremely dangerous".

D&D RC, p. 101

also D&D RC, p. 101

As I said above, it's not nothing. But the whole "adjustment" process is pretty much broken, and I have to find a way to make it all make sense in a way that would allow a GM to build a monster that'd be intentionally balanced from scratch and without much hustle. From what I can see (and, again, considering the scope), not even the math works out (as far as I'm aware).

Check it out. You take the base HD a Monster has. If there is anything added or substracted, it is basically rounded up or down. Then (also D&D RC, p. 101):

"[...] add half of the original Hit Dice figure for each power bonus. Power bonuses include:

• Each asterisk next to a monster's hit dice.
• Special NPC abilities.

For NPC parties, award a power bonus for each of the following conditions: 1) Everyone in the party has +2 weapons or better; and 2) There are spellcasters in the party. (Take the highest level of spells that may be cast, divide by two, then divide that result by the number of characters in the party, rounding up; the result is the power bonus added to the Individual Adjusted Hit Dice figure of every character in the party.)"

It's just ... okay? It'll give you a form of measure, I'm just not sure if I would trust it. As a matter of fact, I'd test that before believing it. Or rather, I'd have to see if it matches how I play it. Again, just from a game-within-the-game point of view, the Gamemaster is just as much a black box as the special abilities can be. I can bluff the players into making mistakes, just as a smart goblin would ... I will not lie or cheat, but I will have monsters and NPCs that'll give it a shot.

And there's the next problem: smarter monsters (than the base line), no change in xp range. Okay. At least there is some rules for it (D&D RC, p. 214). That whole chapter on changing monsters is inspiring, but not a lot of crunch, actually. Good ideas, almost no rules.

Size can be factored in, but it is a strange one, because changing the size of an EXISTING monster will alter its xp range and base HD exceptionally. Huge medusa, in an example, has HD 8+24, plus better AC, better to-hit, better saves, more damage! That'd be brutal ... and in no relation to other big monsters in the book? A big goblin like that would fuck up a normal orc, no problem (a 7 ft goblin would outmatch an orc with more hp, slightly better saves, more damage ... it's not much on that scale, but a lot when going bigger than that, as the Medusa shows easily). 

That's not even all of it. Look at the Gargantuan entry for monsters (D&D RC, p. 177), compare them ith their counterparts and THAN do the math to see if it fits. It doesn't. The gargoyle is not that much larger (still L), but features 32 (!) instead of 4 HD and deals about 4 times the damage. That's a legacy monster, for sure. They just didn't bother to align it all.

There's more. As those stars factor in as "special abilities", it is interesting to check what the thinking was there, so off we go to the section in the book about xp (D&D RC, p. 128) ... only to find out that each * basically denotes some ability that can be used in combat. Nothing else ... unless it can cast, which automatically counts as "weaponized", no matter the kind of magic (also interesting, also unbalanced).

I don't really get the distinction anyway, as EVERYTHING can be weaponized. Their argument is "if it can fly, no *, if it can swoop in to attack, it gets the *". Not even defenses factor in (they say there could be exceptions, but they don't say what they are). And another "soft rule" added to that, is called "Modifying XP" (same page) and basically advises "if it's tougher than you thought, give more xp, if the characters walk through it, give less.", which sucks, as far as advice goes (nothing to work with, just taking space, also diminishing clever play).

See the problem with that? I do.

It is all connected to HD, but inconsequentially so. It's not connecting all the dots. If you have (optional) rules for balancing, apply them to everything, connect them with how xp are calculated and monsters are created. Make it click, revise all the monster entries. Do the work. As it is, the problem is addressed in three different chapters, offering 2.5 different solutions, with all the island solutions you can come up with in the monster section. There is a vague idea what that could mean, but not developed enough to produce monsters with other than "making them up", and riddled with inconsistencies.

And that's assuming they touched the proper dials here. HD is a good measure for attack matrices, but it doesn't translate well into the size adjustments: they have to use tricks here, but they are basically inflate the HD+x and then add a indirect to-hit modifier. At best, it's not a very elegant solution.

Want more? What about things like Morale? It is so crucial to be able to overcome monsters by scaring them away instead of having the whole fight, with all the risks and resources that takes. Doesn't that factor into how dangerous an encounter is? 10 HD, but runs away as soon as it sees blood? That shouldn't be a problem for a group of level 1 characters. 

Or how about checking if the random encounter section creates results in line with the balancing idea? Don't bother, it doesn't (although it's the same fucking chapter!). It teaches a different lesson, however: there is no balancing encounters in the wild. There be dragons out there, and they don't care what level you have. And not all encounter end up in fights, AND the characters should not only encounter tougher foes, but should also learn the signs of such an encounter and how to evade them. It is all part of the game. Just different parts, offering different design philosophies EVERY TIME.

It's all kaputt ...

Let's say, a group's antagonist is a highly intelligent and very rich 2HD monster. Has the funds to give the group hell, and the smarts to be subtle about it. Could terrorize them for a whole campaign, no sweat. A real Moriarty (who might have higher HD, but needn't really in this context). If they caught him, the wizard of a high level group could take him out, bare-knuckle style.

If that would be the climax of a campaign ... xp would not rely on the enemy's HD, it'd be the creature's wealth AND all the challenges it threw at the group over the course of the campaign. Yes, all the monster xp gained, rewarded AGAIN (as per D&D RC, p. 127) plus the wealth.

And that's just that: with a shotgun approach like that, the moving pieces collected in between almost don't matter, what's important is how it is scaled towards the end of an adventure or a campaign so it doesn't overshoot all connected systems (like levelling and and so on). And even for that it has at least secondary safety measures. So D&D RC characters cannot gain more than one level for "an adventure" ...

Another side note: again, very weak with the terminology here ... What's an adventure? How about campaigns? What's if a normal session generates more than enough? What time of playing are we talking here? Say, a 12 hour session dungeon crawling (I do know people like that ... I sure was one of them when I was younger), all open-worldy, no story ... is that one adventure? Again and again just soft rules, ignoring the deeper, underlying structures.

And how unfair is that, if it occurred that you lose xp because of advancement? How easy is that to handle on higher levels? Say a group of high level characters drop a surprise round on a party of big bad dragons and take them out ... big haul, lots of xp, done in a days work. Why not? If you played long enough, you are bound to have some tricks and shortcuts collected for opportunities like that! Instead, nothing. The GM overshot and had to regulate ... fuck that.

What's more, say you just need a couple of hundred xp for next level, but you gain big time (like with finishing an adventure). Bad luck, chummy. You get one point short to gain the next level, everything beyond gets scrapped.

And there is yet another aspect: all the tools talked about here are about fighting monsters, but there is a shift in how xp are gained somewhere in mid-level range, where just killing and looting won't cut it anymore. The shift is away from combat and more towards actual role-playing.

There aren't enough dragons in the multiverse to advance even one high level wizard. Once your fighter needs 120.000 xp to gain another level, they'd rather have some drama where they can shine (good role-playing will gain a character 1/20 of what they need for next level, or in this case 6000 xp) than going for goblin genocide in the homeworld. Exceptional actions will net you another 1/20. If you aim for both, you'll advance every nine sessions, at least.

So. Many. Construction. Sites. So frustrating.

The D&D RC, if it where a bong ... [source]

Solutions: let's stare into that abyss a bit!

I could go on, but I won't. If you've read all the above, you get the idea. But how can I fix that for be67? What does it take to make it all work in unison? Cutting the "fat" here seems to be such a waste, although all of them are island solutions, there are some nice ideas throughout (obviously, duh). And my guess would be that it'd seem too one dimensional as soon as it all lines up into a pattern that actually leads to something like a coherent system.

The only thing I know is: I need that, for sure, since everything else is lined up already and this is the final piece. I cannot write my way out of that. So I won't. Lets take a look at the elements we have:

• HD to have an idea how good a monster or NPC fights and how long it'll last (with the added benefit that the amount of HP also indicates level of maturity).
• Damage output per successful attack (again, there is no rhyme or reason how that measures, but it really matters).
• Saves are really important, since they are a great passive defense mechanism (no idea how to factor that in).
• AC is there in the top five, but it just "is" in the rules (nothing to see here).
• Morale, as described above, lots of moving pieces (no clue how they should connect).
• Special abilities, which can be anything, but at least it is highly applicable AND we have an idea how they track.
• Encounter challenge rating, not a good, but the best indicator we have how some of it at least connects.
  

What else? Treasure? Not necessary (although it factors in with xp). Number appearing? Well, that's a strange one, as it randomizes the balance rating. Maybe good to have a measure like that, but I think it might be a relic from dungeon generating tools that didn't make the cut for the D&D RC. So that's about it.

We can calculate which HD range relates to Total Party Levels in general, and (maybe) what outcome to expect depending on the Challenge Ratings. If you are aware of the sneak peak I shared of the book in my last post (NEG (blank), find it here), you can get an idea how there are additional measures that should make it easier to calculate and manifest a threat.

For one, a GM can track how dangerous the surroundings are, which maps nicely with the idea of a Challenge Rating. For the six Danger Scales presented in the NEG I'll go 20%, 40%, 60%, 80%, 100%, 120%. If you have the Total Party Level (TPL) as well as the Danger Scale (DS) and an Encounter occurs, there's already a lot to deduce from the available numbers. It just isn't that much of a help if you end up with one big number and a myriad of options how to resolve it.

I'm telling you, this will hurt a little ...

Say we have a group of 6 level 5 characters cruising in a DS IV kind of situation, that'd allow for encountering a (80% of 30) 24 HD entity. And the problem is: that could be ANYTHING. Even just reduced to the encounter table, there's so much to go with. I'm tempted to make it sort of a point buy system where the 24 (in this case) are a pool to buy all kinds of features, with some easy defaults to fall back on, if time's pressing.

It could be, however, information overload: would it be a good option to use a swarm, or one big fella? Maybe buy some damage options and better AC? So default is AC 9, reducing that would mean different costs for different numbers of enemies ... so that needs to be categorized. Single (one entity), skirmish (a division of the HD Potential) and mob (1 HD entities, all of them) encounters, maybe? At least that's what I did in ORWELL ...

Maybe it should scale a bit differently? Like, a single encounter should have the lowest AC default, skirmish encounters default a bit higher, swarm lands at 9. Easy. Default damage should be just as easily mapped with group size ... But having the option to buy shit with HD as the currency would mean it'll be reduced. You'd have to do THAT before deciding for group size, right? Right?!

[source]

Okay, so potential first, then group size, then the defaults (AC, Damage, Saves should be in there and Morale?), then using the Potential for specials. And that's it. Make it relate to the basic encounter key, give it something special, maybe dial a bit with the stats ... é voilà, basic encounter?

No no no ... Something's missing. Can't have the same defaults independent of the actual HD. Higher HD should have better defaults, right? So that needs to be done. Saves scaling HD like Level, maybe? Higher damages, maybe related to DS? DS could factor in all the time, actually. Still, that's a lot of information to decide on during a game ... And how would prepared monsters fit into this?

[source]

So we need to shift that paradigm?

Fifth attempt at this (I think). Anyway, had to put it to rest again for a couple of days to mull it over AGAIN. Here's the thing: they never cared to put it all together. In other words, the system I'm looking for, does not exist. The D&D RC is a tool box, consequently it doesn't amount to much until you do something with it. That can (and often will) mean we have to fill those gaps ourselves with the tools we like or our own solutions.

Which is good, as I can use something I came up with instead. It'll change the tone of the game a bit (compared to the D&D RC, that is), but only for the GM (which is another interesting observation, I think ... the game doesn't change much on the player side at all). So how could I go about this, then?

be67 already offers several frames I can work with. Encounters are themes and tropes a GM wants to see in an adventure, all of them geared and scaled towards an escalation (including clues a group might collect and stationary encounters they might explore). Characters are free to explore as they see fit and encounters are abstract enough to manifest independently of that.

Here, have an example! What we are playing now is a Narnia grindhouse feature where the group ended up looking for some lost kids in a Nazi occupied Narnia variant ... No talking lions yet, but we've only started. Anyway, the group enters through a portal and gets several directions to explore (hints to several stationary encounters). The first Encounter I roll is connected to the main plot: Nazis. As for what their motivation is, the Motivation Generator comes up with "A force of greed that is insane and aims for power". That's what I'm working with.

It is a Main Plot Encounter, so the characters should get a chance to learn something about what's going on here. I'm going through the stationary encounters, and there is a frozen lake with a mystery that the group will see soon in the distance. "insane greedy grab for power" sounds to me like they are taking something powerful they shouldn't, maybe in a place they shouldn't (very movie-villain like, I might add). I decide it'll manifest as a mining operation on the frozen lake. Those Nazis are cutting huge pieces of ice out of the lake and something is trapped in those pieces they carry away!

It was clear that they'd end up seeing the lake soon, because of their decisions. Encountering the mining operation fit that perfectly, imo, so I went with it. That same result on a different stage might have had very different results with the same encounter and motivation rolls, but should have covered the same themes just as well: greedy Nazis doing insane shit for power ...

Another narrative encounter might have been more benign or challenging or threatening, so what would have happened then on their way to the lake would have manifested very differently. That way you gain huge variety in encounters, but themed and with some escalation systems to forward the plot as the characters figure out what's happening (one way or another).

Anyway, so plot and stationary encounters come with a "Danger Scale" (as mentioned above) that alters how powerful those encounters are and changes as the characters interact with them (clearing a dungeon, for instance, would reset that stationary encounter to a DS II (default) or a DS I even). As far as "balance" is concerned, the Total Party Level (TPL) gives indicators what's how tough on a group.

I'd take that, but modify it to adding all of that up (Levels and HD from supporting NSC) and then taking a tenth of that as base line. If that produces fractions (.1 to .9, obviously possible), round down but keep that fraction in mind.

Danger in be67 is scaled from 20% of that TPL (very easy) to 120% (very hard), just like they indicate in the RC, but in steps of 20 % to align it with the DS. That tenth of a TPL is calculated easily enough, to see what HD Potential (HDP) that amounts to in a specific DS, just multiply that number with 2 ( for the 20% or DS I), 4 (40%, DS II), 6 (60%, DS III) and so on. Easy enough and actually quite fast, I'd say.

Now a GM has to decide what's needed in that specific situation. If it's less than what's actually available, it can well be improvised as long as the numbers aren't adding up to something more or way less powerful than indicated by the HDP of that encounter. Other than that, there will be rules to use the HDP to its full, well, potential.

The next thing that needs deciding is the size of the encounter. Is it a single beast/NPC/entity? A "skirmish" (which, for be67, means a group with the upper limit of character group plus DS)? Or a "mob" (which would describe a number of entities above the number of characters in a group + DS)? As a situation is already on hand, that should be easily to decide on the fly.

Mob rules in effect! [source]

While the TPL and the DS with the narrative and motivation generator results give you a target area (HDP) and a rough idea what could happen (group size, some elements of the encounter as well as a "stage"). Once the smallest HD unit of that encounter entity is defined, you also gain a couple of insights in as far as HD already determines how capable a monster/NPC/etc. is to hit something. We also already have guidelines for what HD can mean generally, as it nicely tracks with character levels.

Something like that will give a GM a base line to work with, as far as AC, Damage, Saves and Morale are concerned. What it needs, then, is comprehensive tables to make that information easily accessible. Done. A GM that knows if it'll be a single, a skirmish or a mob encounter and what HD a single of those entities will have, will just as fast have the basic default values needed to make it a fight.

As a cherry on top, that fracture from the TPL tenth calculated in the beginning, that can easily translate into that HD bonus we all know and love from D&D monster entries (+1, +2, and so on).

If you are GMing on the fly, this "fast lane" approach will help you immensely, but there is more ...

Introducing Builds & high complexity Encounters

Following the above, you'll see that the numbers a GM is working with at any given moment are moving targets, in flux until needed in a specific situation as all parameters may change quickly during play (DS changes, characters gain allies or explore alone, and so on).

The easiest way to alter those spontanious numbers quickly, is to provide a GM with what I call "Builds" or "Monster Builds" in be67. It is basically a collection of alterations that add variety in the base numbers (higher or lower AC or Saves and all that) as well as special abilities, combat tactics, treasure and even weaknesses.

That, then, is just thrown on the numbers a GM has come up with. Instant goblin soup. Or that werewolf you just needed. Or aliens, because why the fuck not. Builds is what GMs prepare for their adventures (think: grindhouse features), but are just as easily provided in the equivalent of monster manuals (and be67 itself will feature its good share of examples as well ...).

HDP will be a general guide what's possible or recommended here, but that's just to not overpower an encounter by accident and should formulate nothing more than an upper limit. Anything below that threshold should be fair game.

To get REALLY deep n dirty into the rules, be67 will also provide tools for GMs to create detailed builds themselves. It'll provide a GM the dials needed to have a somewhat balanced build to throw at all suitable TPL. It introduces weaknesses (blind, small, stoned, incestous, animal or plant, stuff that'd impede an encounter somewhat) and gives a coherent list of special abilities and combat tactics for inspiration, as well as guidelines to implement attributes, skills and other character traits for monsters and NPCs.

And that's it?

That's it. GMs get three grades of resolution to manifest ALL encounters the game provides as well as all the tools needed to DIY all aspects of it. With this, if it isn't written already, I feel confident enough to say that its now conceptualized to a point where it just needs to be written.

Is this still B/X D&D? I'd say be67 will produce similar results to a degree that it all stays highly compatible while doing something else entirely (like, being weird in the Sixties and introducing lots of GORE!). If you where playing it towards a more balanced version of the game. As far as the D&D paradigm I described above goes, I'd say that if you were to design a game like that from scratch nowadays, you don't (well, I don't) have the luxury of it not making sense. In my opinion.

The only aspects new rpgs need that MAY gain a distinct advantage against their (overwhelming) competition, would be compatibility and/or coherent designs. Coherent enough, at least, so that an aspiring GM could transcend the rules to a degree that allows for a complete DIY approach. If you can throw it at everything and do everything with it, chances are that people that bought it to at least read it, will get something worthwhile out of it.

Hence the headache of making this work as good as possible.

That said, I hope I could also show that the D&D RC is more than that one approach I chose to build my designs on. There is way more, and that's a good thing. In a way, having it being so "patchwork" and incomplete is part of the appeal of the D&D Rules Cyclopedia. It draws you in easily enough (playing early levels works like a charm, with enough material all around to make it even easier), and when you get to a point where you find some inconsistencies, it invites you to look deeper and engage with it even more that way.

I wonder if that imcompleteness is one of the secrets of its success, actually starting with OD&D, which (as I alluded to in the beginning) was just as incomplete (and inspiring), but for other reasons. Is it, even, the source of that paradigm I was talking about above? Something worth pondering on, I presume, but maybe impossible to replicate in a modern rpg?

As for be67, I'm happy how it shapes up. If nothing else, it is what my house rules look like as a full game, and it is what I use when I want to play a game like that, so it'll be handy to have around. But it is also a (hopefully) comprehensive deconstruction of early D&D (as you see above), so it may have value as that as well. Compatibility is the third important aspect, I think.

Structuring monster and NPC generation like seen above, it not only makes all monster manuals out there fair game, it is also quite the fit for the great systemless monster generators that managed to get my attention (my good friend Eric Diaz' great Teratogenicon and James Raggi's fabled Random Esoteric Creature Generator come to mind ... I'm sure that's just the tip of the iceberg), if more inspiration or just more meat on them bones is needed.

Anyway, this ended up being a long one again. I appreciate everyone reading this one to the end. Thank you for tagging along as I tried to sort this out for me, and I hope you took something away from joining me in this deep, deep dive into the machinations of the D&D RC! Maybe it'll also help gaining a bit of interest for be67. Either way, know you are appreciated.

Latest version of the cover ...

D&D RC Campaign Summerbreak Summary Part 2: The Art of Boredom

Hello, everyone! I'm still alive and I got lots of writing to do, just not for the blog. Have a great little home campaign cooking and people seem to enjoy it enough to put some more energy into it, I started writing some more fiction, which will get published through other outlets (if you want a taste, check out my little cyberpunk story here) and I still aim to publish a couple of projects I started the last couple of months ... it's been busy. Anyway, so much for the update. I this post I'll talk a bit more about our D&D campaign and share some of the world building we've been doing. Enjoy!

Here's Part 1, for those interested in the whole bit.

Where we left

I need to write this down or I'll forget it ... Alright, the characters arrived in Deverrin, a nice town in a nice valley with a nice apple festival going. They got involved in a heist of some very expensive apple cider, or at least everyone thinks they are involved and the party of adventurers becomes a party of interest for at least 3 factions involved.

In best noir-tradition, they go with the flow and see where they can benefit form the situation. First in line was a priestess of the Goddess of Boredom and after some unfortunate business about unpaid bills in a tavern, the characters are on their way to the temple for room and board (or should I say "bored" ...).

This is where we get back into the story.

The Temple of Boredom

The challenge here was to present the players with something that obviously bored their characters, but still was entertaining to behold. Not an easy task, beyond the obvious jokes that come to mind immediately: highly bureaucratic, boring architecture, boring people ... and yet, you'd have burned your way through that pretty fast and they came to stay, so it'll need a little bit more than that.

I started out lucky, as the Narrative Generator suggested that the characters encounter some rivals. Having the group encounter another adventuring group is something I do very rarely in my D&D games and this gave me a great little opportunity to change that. So as they enter the temple, looking forward to some free food and a bed, and they see a group of eccentric strangers that could only be adventurers: a pixie, a veteran, some shady looking guy and a halfling.

Obviously the Forum Romanum, but it'll serve as temple district ... [source]

 

The group's very own shady looking character sneaked in and heard that their jig was threatened (is that how you say it?): those guys offered their services for finding the missing bottle of Goldspritz and their offer was good. The players wouldn't have it. However, instead of confronting their competition, they "sleep-spelled" them (which totally should be a word ...).

It was a gamble, of course, as they had no idea how tough those NPCs were and plan B seemed to be of the bloody variant, with the thief hoping he got a surprise attack if the wizard failed ... Well knowing that if he failed, they wouldn't get out of this alive (at least it would get bloody).

Anyway, the spell dropped 3 of the four, leaving the Pixie awake and they managed to handle that one. Took a little bit of intimidation and pointing out that cutting some throats would be the easiest solution right now, and the competition was no more. They sure made an enemy that day, though.

Having their place secured, they claimed the offer they got. The next problem seemed to be that they couldn't agree how to pair for the rooms they got, so they had to share a room with some (very boring) strangers.

Here's the thing: there is beauty in boredom. If you are bored, nothing dangerous is happening, and that's a good thing. That's why the Goddess of Boredom has a strong following and people come from all over the place to experience true boredom at the temple. Mostly office types, probably. But there is nothing wrong with embracing a boring life. Or so they told the characters.

Of course they tested the limits of that by trying to disturb the divine boredom of the place. It's just that the reaction was never as spectacular as they thought it'd be. Hence, that first night in the temple was quite unspectacular.

Breakfast was when the characters realized that this place might not be healthy. They'd been led to a room without windows, with two rows of tables where the seating always faced a blank wall. The food was gray porridge. Nourishing, for sure, but not very appealing. To make things worse, they had a little machine in there that made a constant ticking sound, like you'd know from a loud clock.

It was too much for the characters and they'd have to make a save versus death rays to avoid the boredom affecting them (which two characters failed, of course). Still, a free meal it has been. They gathered some more information in the temple, then they went back into town to gather some more ...

Deverrin with details (or rather, that's what I use) [source]

Rumors and the Redcape Militia

Another rainy day in the city. But still, the festival was in full swing and apple-themed gimmicks and pastries where all over the place. The (fat) wizard and the (fat) cat woman where happy to explore a variety of apple extravaganzas, while the rest of the group headed to the next guard post.

The city guard is a militia called the "redcapes", obviously for their choice in clothing. From what the characters know, they are mainly financed by powerful political entities in the area and thus, let's say, a bit biased towards certain cash cows. The baron keeps out of town, mostly, so the city guard is who's having the say. And who controls them, controls what's happening.

Chief among those powerful is the Godmother of apple cider in town, Gertrude Oldinges. Now, guess who was target of that heist ... Right. So the city guard had a vested interest in solving that particular case.

In come the characters. It's a busy little guard station, right in the center of town. No obvious leaders, but the characters wanted to mingle first anyway. The barbarian offered an arm wrestling competition and those redcapes just hanging around happily accepted the challenge. Anything to get some entertainment, right?

So the barbarian fails, which is good for morale, then the pretty boy of the group (our very own Prince Charming) joins the fray and devastates the strongest guy the guard could offer. Now people started paying attention. The thief made some good winnings on the side (which he had to share, because people with axes persisted).

Our prince charming wished he looked like that, but it's close enough ... [source]

Having played the crowd like that, the group starts asking questions, especially asking who's in charge. Turns out, the guy in charge is called Irmin and he's quite the hero material, all muscles and charm.

He's open to exchange information, but wants the group to do him a favor first (again the narrative generator throwing a curve ball): his young cousin has fallen in with a bad crowd. A band of misfits that hang out in the slums that grew outside the walls of Deverrin. Irmin wants the group to go in there and get the boy back to his family. If they manage to do that, they get the information they want.

Meanwhile the cat and the wizard eat and drink their way through the festival and gather some more rumors while they are at it: something about an explosion in the north-east of town that seemed somehow drug related and there is some underground fighting somewhere in the sewers.

The group unites and head towards the residence where Irmin's aunt lives to gain some more knowledge on the boy.

A tragic story?

Irmin's extended family lives in the artisan quarter of town. Houses with several stories, where the business is on the ground level and the living quarters are above. Usually several generations lived in those houses, as well as the apprentices and the helps. The characters are met with suspicion first, but as soon as they explained that Irmin sent them and what their quest is, the family warms up to them and they are allowed inside.

The family seems to prepare for supper as the characters arrive. Women and children in the kitchen, the mother of the boy in trouble among them. She sends the rest of the family outside and tells the characters the story as far as she knows it. Her son, Tlaus, had a childhood sweetheart called Yvi. They'd do everything together, but it was a strange and silent girl most of the time and they'd soon find out why.

She was the daughter of a famous artisan living close by. Seemed to be a perfectly happy family, too, but something went on there that wasn't supposed to be public. A secret, until the day the family residence burned down and revealed some ugly truths. Or at least some rumors about went on when no one was looking.

Not many of the family survived that fire, but among the dead had been Yvi's father and the surviving family members where unanimous that Yvi had set that fire in a fit of rage about something her father did to her. Most of it was left to the imagination, but Yvi definitely went into hiding after the fire and was searched for as the culprit behind the fire.

Tlaus had secretly kept in touch with her, very much aware that it wouldn't find approval with his family to help the firestarter (the reasons didn't matter that much). It was a situation that had to escalate at some point, and it did. When his family found out that he'd helped Yvi, they tried to intervene and (of course) he ran away because of it.

Last thing they heard was that they started a gang and mugged unwary johns in the outskirts of town. Their main residence seemed to be (as far as the family knew) an establishment called "The Burning Kobold" They'd love to welcome Tlaus back to the family.

Meanwhile the cat made some friends aḿong the children living there and in the end the group got offered some stew in the kitchen. However, the had to be gone before supper started.

The weather had cleared up a bit when they headed towards the wooden shacks that grew like a tumor between Deverrin and the river Wolter. It was an impressive sight, mostly because of its height, and it looked like a proper labyrinth. However, there'd be enough freelancers at the entrances offering their services as guides into the filthy underbelly of town.

That's pretty close to what I described ... [source]

They threw a little boy some copper to get them there and then headed towards the Burning Kobold. What happened there, will be told in Part 3.

Still no fights ...

The group was very careful to avoid conflicts so far. That might be because they realized that all kinds of NPCs with varying power levels populate the area (as should obviously be the case in a D&D sandbox game, right?) or they wanted to avoid forcing their hand with the very brutal and unforgiving combat system we where testing for the game.

Hard to say, but they seemed to have fun nonetheless and that's all I need to know (I really wanted to test that combat system, though).

Still super happy with the Narrative Generator (the only part of Lost Songs that sees some testing right now, I'm afraid). It forces me to develop the narrative in directions I wouldn't have thought about. That's a good thing.

It also helps to imagine this to be an anime story. D&D is great for this kind of game (as I keep saying). All the tropes are either in there or easily implemented. Not really serious gaming, but lots of fun to play.

All the other house rules we agreed upon work as they should, although no character had been challenged really hard at that point. They still get xp for good roleplaying and ideas (as you'd get when playing the D&D RC), so people will level up eventually.

I know many people will tell you that you need to have some sort of mini-dungeon or similar challenge for a low level group to get them some treasure and monster xp, but I found it is very much worthwhile to take the time and built a strong narrative instead. I mean, who's to know, it's a sandbox game and anything goes. I sure enough gave them the hints for some proper dungeon crawling.

However, this is where the game went and it worked just as well, if not better.

Next time we'll learn how things went down with Tlaus and Yvi and what the guard had to tell about that heist. Stay tuned.

RPG Design: Rules to Project or Rules to Experience?

This is sort of an intermission between development posts for be67. It's something that occurred to me a couple of weeks ago and I see it resonated in my blog-roll every so often (like, three times today alone!). I'm going to lean myself a bit out of the window here and say that there are two major and distinct game design schools in RPG Land. RPGs are either one or the other. Let me explain ...

CAVEAT (just in case someone is looking for a fight): Although I believe myself to be clearly on the one side of this (for reasons I will illustrate below), I don't think that any one side is better than the other. As a matter of fact, the one thing that unites (or divides, for that matter) all DIY designers out there is getting it done or not and I'd argue that it is just as hard to build and write a streamlined minimalist game as it is to write rules that reflect how a world should react to a character out of luck. I also might not be the first to formulate those thoughts. If that's so, I'm happy to just repeat them.

Surrealist game, he said

Patient Zero for this was a post over at Realms of Chirak about surrealism in gaming (I'd tag Nicholas, but I somehow seem to have lost that power here in blogger). That post is interesting for a couple of reasons, but what triggered this particular train of thought was him talking about a game I never had been exposed to: Over The Edge (thank you! now I want that and it doesn't exist anymore).

What he said was, that it is (one of?) the first role playing games out there to embrace surrealist elements. Then he goes a bit into the setting and I went off to read a bit more about that setting (which is cool shit, don't get me wrong) and then I read that it is a very rules light game ...

... wait a minute, I thought, so the surrealist elements come from the setting, not from the system? Well, if you check out the character sheet, you'll see quite fast that there isn't happening a lot from the system side of things (from what I could gather, it's a nice system, though).

It certainly isn't the first time I encountered a game like that (and I'm not talking about games featuring surrealist elements, although one could make an argument for OD&D in that regard). Tékumel is a strong contender for a setting-driven, rules-light game and among the first to be published. Talislanta is another one (No elves!), but that just might be the hand of Jonathan Tweet again, so it only counts half way, I guess.

D&D can be surreal, and you know it ... [source]

I wrote in a post not that long ago (still lost ... can't find it right now, but it's the thought that counts) that strong settings are narrative expansion of the rules and just as strict. All you'll need with a strong setting is a minimalist or light game to make it work (which is one way to see it). I'll leave it at that for now and come back to it later. The distinction we need to make here, is that the game is not heavy on the mechanics, but heavy on the context (or subtext?).

It's Setting vs. Rules, then?

So what are we talking about here? There seems to be a shifting scale between, say, the established story of a game and the rules that determine the outcome of interactions with said world. Both feed the narrative that emerges at the table and the degree with which they dominate is close to the distinction I'm trying to make, just not quite right.

As far as I can tell, this more is about how much is projected into a game and how much is created procedurally. You'll obviously have both aspects in every game. However, I think we can make a clear distinction by looking at the rules of a game for attempts to generate an experience rather than leaving room for projection.

I'll elaborate. Let's take Dungeon World as an example (because I read and reviewed that one). It is very rules light, only has a couple of rules to play with. Everything else is just labeled differently, so the impact on the narrative is shifted with different words describing (mostly) the same mechanic.

DW is interesting as an example for another reason: it shows how OD&D as a set of rules is canonized to a degree that you can actually project it on a lighter system and produce the same feel for the lighter game (if all involved know what D&D is, I'd argue). In the reviews back when I described that as "scripted D&D" and that is just another way of describing the phenomenon.

The "XYZ Hack" is another great example for games like that. Take a light system, change the words and use some strong idea or another as platform to project. Everyone has an idea what pirates are, so pirate games are easy like that. Same goes for Cthulhu games or Pulp games or Kung Fu ... just look at the list.

To a degree you'll have that with every role playing game, as I already pointed out. People will bring their ideas of stories to the table. Always. The difference is, if you need to bring that knowledge to the table, or if the game also delivers and challenges some of that itself.

An easy example for this are the insanity rules in Call of Cthulhu games. The game will tell you how your character goes insane, what that means and how to do something about that while playing the game. Port those rules in any other game and see how it completely changes the flow of that other game.

SWAT guys playing Ballerinas ...

Here's another example for projection versus experience. You bring to the table what you know. If that's all you need, you'll be good to go. The rest is negotiation of the validity of that knowledge with all others involved.

Say, a SWAT team plays some rpg in their off hours (or as training?) about being a SWAT team. They could just go and use something Powered by the Apocalypse or a Hack variant or some other set of minimalist rules and everything else would just fall into place.

But have them play a couple of ballerinas in a Black Swan scenario, and I imagine they'd be as lost as most people. If they were still up to it (because, lets face it, people don't really want to invest that much into the games they are playing ...), there'd be two ways to make this work:

• (1) would be offering them the setting heavy variant (see above, could just be an extension of a rules light system and still work)

• OR

• (2) you introduce them to a system that already took care of the heavy lifting and allows the players to explore that theme themselves.

And that's how you make ballerinas out of a SWAT team. A system like that would seek the essence of what it means to be a competitive ballerina (to stay with the example here) and allows players to explore the game's theme by producing results that form the emerging narrative in a meaningful way towards said theme, not towards the players expectations.

Too unexpected? [source]

They are not negotiating and projecting as much as they are experiencing and interpreting. As they get better at playing the game, they come to an understanding of the underlying themes on a more visceral level ... (you are still looking at that Kirk picture, aren't you?)

You could say it is the long held distinction between so-called "storyteller games" and games that "simulate", but I always questioned that distinction and the above explains why to some extent. However, I might add that all role playing games actually tell a story or simulate in the true sense of the word (which explains why people fight so hard about those definitions, btw, they are not apt to begin with).

Different approaches, I'd say

I'm not saying writing a game to allow exploring a theme is more difficult than writing one that offers projection of known and agreed upon themes, but the difficulties are distributed very differently for each. And the distinction is very real (although overlap, see above).

The complexity for offering a platform for players to project themes upon can go from minimal D6 to GURPS (or other universal role playing games) and all of them are in their way equally hard to design, I imagine.

As far as strengths and weaknesses go, I'd say those games allow easy access for players and low investment on the plus side. Both aspects will get people together easily and get you playing fast. Very nice for short games and one shots.

The downside, however, is that games will most likely lack depth, while only rarely challenging the players and the DM or only in the most superficial way (you have no hit points, you are dead ... but even that's not always the case). The lack of depth and exploration (other than on the narrative side, I suppose) will not allow for huge campaigns and lend itself to entertaining mini campaigns. At least it'll be difficult to keep a story alive for long.

The other side of the spectrum would be games that offer the exploration of their themes through the rules. While campaigns can be longer and more satisfying, because all involved will continually be challenged by the game to learn and extrapolate, instead of just telling/negotiating what's going to happen, it's also a serious commitment. Not everyone is willing to do that.

Also, even if all the rules can be learned during the game, you still have to remember them as the game progresses. You have to want to get better at the game (and, arguably, be able to do so) to really benefit from the game instead of getting, say, frustrated. Ideally, a game will lead you into it's depths, though.

With those games it's also very easy to make mistakes in the design. If a game like that is not well designed, it'll fail.

D&D as prototype

D&D is the best example for the latter variant. Especially in it's early "final" stages, the D&D Rules Cyclopedia and AD&D. Highly abstract, high complexity, lots and lots of exploration and little sub-systems to boot (down to having little rules for different monsters!).

It'll keep you engaged for years and then some. Classes are not only different, they are distinct and offer a wide range of different play-styles. The rules are easy on the players in the beginning and grow with the characters.

It's also a true game of exploration, in every sense (which ultimately is why young children find it so appealing!). Fantasy as a genre also played a crucial role in that its generic nature allowed the game to manifest through the rules instead of, say, setting distinctions (a mistake AD&D 2e did, arguably) or strong themes. Just the most basic understanding of what fantasy means was enough to play the game.

D&D, still surreal ... [source]

What's more, the game allowed an easy exit along the way. You just want to play the first 9 or 6 or 3 levels? It's all fun and easy enough to do. However, if you go in deep, you'll find it's very deep indeed, as there are rules for warfare and domain games and becoming gods, for instance. There's also room to develop your own game out of it or add new rules. Or just take aspects of it and run with that for a while.

D&D can do all that and did it so good, in fact, that those rules and it's vocabulary became iconic enough to be used as a theme as well, just as explained above. It helped creating a very successful video game industry and all role playing games developed after D&D did so in distinction to it. Think about that for a minute.

Two schools

Anyway. That's D&D for you. The problem with all that is to decide whether you'd rather explore or project in your games (and you could project exploring, for that matter), or which to what degree. It might come down to taste, and that isn't even a constant. However, knowing is half the battle, right?

As far as developing games goes, I think we are talking two different schools here. Or two different disciplines, if you will. And they are distinct in that they each try to create a very different style of role playing. Each are equally difficult to design, make no mistake about it. However, distinct they are and that comes with huge ramifications as far as definitions go.

Here's something useful to take away from this: if you want to find out if a game is for you (or why a game doesn't work for you), look back at the games you liked so far in the most abstract way you can muster and with the distinctions made in this here post. Then check if that new game does that or not.

So if you are into projecting games that are low on setting, something like Dungeon or Apocalypse World might be totally for you. High complexity experiences, but low time investment? Check out indie rpgs like My Life With Master or 44 (or a bazillion other indie games in that direction). Highly modular, lots of projection, descent mini-campaigns? GURPS or BRPG or universal rpgs in general might work. And so on and so forth.

It'll also give you some indications what players you'll want. I had a game of WitchCraft once go south because the players totally where projecting and ignored the rules to an extent where people with super hero characters played as if they were normal and weak. The game offered no challenges for them on that level, and they weren't happy when the things started happening the game demands to challenge the characters ...

It's an extreme case, but I wouldn't have had that problem using a system accommodating this sort of play, like FATE, for instance. Being able to communicate to potential players what kind of game you want to play is a very good thing, imo (although in the example above it meant that two players had to go and one went with them ... which was for the better, I might add).

A hard distinction to make?

If you read up to this point, you'll probably be thinking up examples where the distinction fails. Good. Please challenge this, as I don't think enough people are. I can imagine people going "But we played GURPS for decades now!" or "Dungeon World is not projecting D&D themes on a rules-light system!" or "D&D has no depth!", and that's all fine and dandy from an individual point of view.

However, please consider that it's distinctions like the above that, on a purely pragmatic level, allow us not only to find ways to talk about the games we play, they also offer a way to reflect and position your own preferences in gaming in relation to them. In an ideal case we talk about it and come to a better definition. Nothing set in stone here.

That said, and adding that there indeed is some overlap, I think it is important to understand that there might be play styles that are not compatible at all and what the reasons for that are. Describing this as the distinction between projection and exploration at least has the benefit that it isn't as nebulous as the "storyteller"/"simulationist" approach.

And that's that: i'd love to hear if you guys see the same distinction or something else. Maybe it's really not that much of a distinction but more like a scale of involvement (although I don't think so ... I strongly believe it's a temperament thing, or at least connected)? Let me hear what you think. Opinions and thoughts are, as always, very welcome.

I just liked that one [source]

Rules Cyclopedia Oddities 7: Dungeons (including: the only picture of a dungeon map in the RC)

Every now and then I discover something odd in the D&D Rules Cyclopedia and decide it is worth a post. Considering I started this series 2013, I don't get to write a lot of them (not for the lack of material, tbh). Anyway, without further ado, have another installment of the Rules Cyclopedia Oddities series! This time we are talking dungeons, because the odd thing is: there isn't much to talk about ...

Oh Dungeon, Where Art Thou?

As most reading this will be aware, the Rules Cyclopedia has a bit of everything and can be considered a complete game on all accounts. It spans an epic arc for characters from level 1 to 36, it has a domain game, a mass combat system and some great rules to create and run a setting (among various other things). What it doesn't have is proper rules to create a dungeon, though. Compared to what AD&D had to offer at the time, the topic is woefully neglected. For shame ...

First indication that something is off in that regard is the fact that the game is not only called Dungeons & Dragons, the referee is also still called a Dungeon Master. One would expect that dungeon are a major feature. However, the only picture of a dungeon in the whole tome is this beauty:

I'm actually not quite sure what is happening here ... [source]

Right, that's not even a proper dungeon to begin with. It actually shows people doing the very thing the game is lacking: planning a dungeon. But it gets worse.

You'll have little tidbits here and there how classes relate to dungeons. There is a bit about why wizards build dungeons beneath their towers to attract monsters: For research and to get the newest gossip from the world of monsters (p. 20). There are also spells that have rules for their use in an dungeon environment (cloud kill, among others).

Actually, a huge part of the game is geared towards dungeons: exploration, there is a random encounter section for dungeons and lots of monsters that would (only) live in a dungeon. Standard Rations spoil over night in a dungeon (p. 69) and you will get assigned damage if you are barefoot in a dungeon (p. 70). Movement is different in dungeon settings (p. 87).

You get a lot like that, the game takes every possible aspect of exploring, moving, encountering, fighting and casting under consideration. Dungeons are a vital element of the game if you read it as a player or DM it just around the characters as the game emerges.

What isn't there, though, is proper advice to build and prepare a dungeon as a DM.

How bad is it with the advice?

A DM will find the first proper advice how to build a dungeon on p. 148 (after a few notes what building a dungeon would cost in the Dominion chapter, for some reason) and it looks like this:

"When you design your own dungeons, use straight corridors and square rooms at first. You may try other shapes and twisted corridors when you and the players are more experienced—but even then, it will still slow down the game."

Woah, that's ... I don't know, it's probably and actually a very "old school" understanding of a dungeon. Something you'd see in Gary Gygax's playbook, maybe. That said, there's not much to work with here and he's basically saying that complex dungeon design has no real in-game benefit.

Gygax's binder, Level 1 under Greyhawk Castle ... [source]

Moving on.

Not much else to read about dungeons in chapter 13: Dungeon Master Procedures. There's a bit about thieves and traps, but reading it depressed me a little (which might be enough for yet another RC Oddity ...) and then the RC starts talking Monsters.

Again, we get all kind of incidental data about how the game works in dungeons compared to wilderness encounters. Monsters per room, how monster behavior in a dungeon might be different to encounters outside, more rules about encounters ... and then lots of monster entries before we talk mechanics again (liked the bit about mountain lions wandering further into dungeons than any other cat species would ... long time readers and players will know why).

The next big entry is on page 235 and it's about treasure maps. Read it all here:

"Maps to Treasures (Normal, Magical, Combined, or Special): Each map should be made in advance by the DM. Such maps show a route to the location of a treasure in a dungeon or a wilderness area. The treasure is usually hidden or protected by monsters, traps, and/or magic. Based on the type of treasure given, the DM should select a challenging monster (who has a similar treasure type) and design the map and monster lair accordingly. Note that the map may be partially incorrect, omitting an important detail (such as the type of monsters, dangerous traps, etc.) or giving some false information; however, the treasure mentioned should actually be there. Sometimes maps are only partially complete or are written in the form of a riddle. And some can only be read by a read languages spell."

While I appreciate the advice in general (maps for players need to be unreliable is a big plus here), it doesn't give a DM much to work with at this point. And we are almost through the book, too (yes, we'll go through the whole book here).

The first time we encounter some actual meat about the topic is in Chapter 17: Campaigning. I don't care when it happens, as long as it happens, though. Let's take a look. Well, first of all Allston advices us about dungeons with this little tidbit: "Simple dungeon explorations are very entertaining on occasion, a release of frustrations and a welcome return to the basics of the game." (D&D RC, p. 256). It sets dungeons apart from more "serious" goals you can set for your campaign.

The thing is, I do not disagree completely, it is important and more satisfying to have your campaign manifesting in arcs (planned or not), but using dungeons here as the main contrast to this is a bit much, imo.

Okay, okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves. There's more. When you build your setting, having dungeons on the map is among the advice, with hints that there'll be more about the topic later in the book.

There's little stabs towards the subject, though, like this sentence: "If your campaign makes use of dungeons (described later), you can locate a dungeon near the home town [...]" (D&D RC, p. 257. If you've read the book straight up to this point, you'd be at least irritated about the subject: so much space dedicated to playing in dungeons, the game even has it in the title, but there's a huge reluctance to talk about designing dungeons or the DM part of the matter, with little snippets like I quoted above, seemingly advising against it. Damn.

So sad ... [source]

Finally, on page 259 we get the promising heading "Designing adventures and DUNGEONS" (emphasis mine). Suddenly the word "dungeon" is all over the place. We talk setting and stocking and different scenarios ... it's all pretty general and uninspired, but there's still hope. When we get to the part where it specifically talks dungeons, though, it simply doesn't add anything but empty phrases.

Go, check for yourself, if you don't believe me. It starts page 260 and goes on for the most part of page 261. Self-evident stuff, like dungeons can go in all directions and that the first level should be the easiest, but you can experiment there. Some simple terminology, like pits and corridors and trick monsters, a couple of rules about simple random stocking ... nothing solid, there is even the advice to check out published dungeons. It's disappointing.

After that entry you'll have some notes about Mystara (the default setting), some alternate and conversion rules and lots of overland maps. Add character sheets and an index and that's the Rules Cyclopedia for you.

Why oh why?!

Let's talk reasons. I think this is a huge oversight, but maybe it's for good reasons. Well, the cynic in me thinks, they wanted to sell product and leaving a crucial part of a DMs work out of the book would ensure some sales, right?

Doesn't have to be the sole reason, though. Space could have been an issue. Rules for playing in dungeons are all over the book, maybe it was considered enough (although a DM would have to be very, very familiar with the D&D RC to run it that way).

Another reason might have been that Allston (as the one compiling the book) just wasn't too fond of dungeons to begin with and just did the bare minimum because he had to.

Scope might be another aspect and I think it has the most clout here. A possible range of a campaign leads characters from level 1 to 36, with a good chance to play some more for immortality. It means that the reasons to explore dungeons will vanish beyond, say, level 9, but at least as early as when characters get more xp for role playing and clever play than for killing monsters or even collecting loot (read all about it in Part 5 of the Oddities!).

D&D can do so much more than dungeons and giving them more room in the rules would have given the wrong impression there, right? Add to that the huge corpus of works leading to the D&D RC and there isn't much reason to have more about dungeons right there.

Still, it is somewhat odd that what is there, isn't very useful to anyone but people playing for the very first time. No example of play, no example of a small dungeon to show people the ropes ... Nothing.

And that's that

Don't get me wrong, I do love the Rules Cyclopedia. I think it's one of the best D&D books out there for everything it does half-heartedly, everything it does right and most of all for the great potential beyond the sum of its parts. It's just that, as far as dungeons go, it could have done more with little effort.

Well, or maybe I'm wrong and it is totally enough! The older I get and the more I read in this book, the more I think that the main game isn't about dungeon crawls at all.

However, please, feel free to chime in here with your observations, thoughts and knowledge about the RC. I'm, as always, happy to hear it.

Also, check out the other Oddities, if you haven't already:

Part 1: Damage to Magic Items

Part 2: The Druid

Part 3: The "Type of Human" and "NPC Reasons for Appearing" Checklists

Part 4: Race as Class

Part 5: Experience

Part 6: Diversity