WHAT MADE ORIGINAL D&D GREAT

DEPTH OF THE GAME CAMPAIGN. One of the most effective devices that E. Gary Gygax (henceforth, EGG) used to give the AD&D game a marvelous (read: ancient, arcane, mysterious) feeling of depth and complexity was this: the inclusion of items, adventures, and scenes that might not be found by players. That is, there were some mysteries in the World of Greyhawk campaign that indeed might only be found by the most creative and inspired and skillful players, and missed by all others: it was indeed very special if these mysteries were found out. Contrast this with the motivation most module designers have, either based on a sensation that any important campaign point (that is, time spent designing) should be revealed to players, or else a need for the players to succeed and proceed to the next module in a series (or episode in an adventure), which generally directs the players into pre-orchestrated modes of action.
For example, many non-EGG modules often resort to a paragraph or two exhorting the DM to bend the rules so as to allow players to survive, or find the missing clue, or arrive at the important site at the critical time (for the above reasons; e.g., module X4, page 2). Consider instead EGG's G-D-Q series: in each of the G modules, it is entirely likely that the clue to the next adventure will be missed (usually, hidden behind several secret passages), and even more so in the case of the link from D3-Q1. (Whether an individual DM might stack things so as to guarantee the use of a later module s/he has purchased is entirely another consideration). Or, consider the magic items and secrets buried deep in thick books in "Mordenkainen's Fantastic Adventure" (WG5). Or, the nightmarish Undertemple of the "Forgotten Temple of Tharizdun" (WG4), which is almost impossible to discover and explore, and more than likely unknown to many adventurers who have otherwise cleared out the place and departed, considering themselves wholly successful.
EGG's general strategy was to design worlds and campaigns, filled with many different interesting locations and sites, and then leave it to the players to turn whither they would, and bypass whatever they wanted. Note that in this game design philosophy, (1) the players are proactive, in control, and not constrained by some foreordained timeline (say, engineered by a proactive evil figure) and (2) the narrative (as per a fantasy "story" or "novel") is not predetermined or in any way certain. This is a very postmodern movement. Actions (scenes, adventures) may very well be entirely disconnected and unrelated: however, excitement and interest are always maintainable, because at any moment the roll of the dice might mean the demise of a player character, and there is no guarantee that player desires (usually money and power = experience) will be fulfilled, as opposed to a novel (one can see from simple page count that the story will not end in the middle of the book), or a movie (one knows that all the characters are not going to die before the allotted running time has elapsed). Note also that EGG has in fact made for a rather poor novelist for exactly this reason: "Saga of Old City" (his first book) is disjointed and meandering in precisely this way, and his later works ("Dangerous Journeys") suffer in the same fashion (or else from the  Asimovian disease of seemingly being written all in one sitting, and having only one climactic moment, as would be fine for a short story, in an entire novel).

PLAYER PROACTIVITY. As stated previously, it seems that anything promoting player proactivity makes the campaign more exciting: as it is precisely this allowance for multiple people to participate in the construction of the drama which separates RPG's from novels or movies (and even such advances as hypertext nonlinear narrative -- because there is always a real present moment, in which decisions could be made differently, or outcomes to occur differently).
In this respect, the design of dungeons (static locations) is important in order to (1) make PCs proactive, making the decision to move and adventure wholly theirs and (2) at the same time make the world manageable for DMs (as it is unreasonable to expect DMs to plan out continuing movements, migrations, and gained experience all the time over a whole world -- setting up static areas at least reduces the DMs work necessary to a finite, if large, amount). To a certain extent, one must be willing to "waste" effort in the sense of designing sufficient areas that PCs will probably not explore them all.
Consider the difference between modules X1 and X4. X1 features a fairly large tropical island, with many set location encounters scattered all over the place: because of this, it is most unlikely that any party will confront all of them. In seeming reaction to this, the author of X4 (David Cook) writes on page 2,

"With the exception of the first few encounters and the last one, none of these encounters are set. Instead, they are organized by the type of terrain in which they occur... The DM controls the timing of all the encounters. He does not have to worry about the characters missing an important encounter by not going in the right direction."

In other words, for this adventure, it doesn't matter where the players go. On the one hand, the designer's job is easier, because every encounter is guaranteed to take place: no excess scenes are written. On the other hand, it makes no difference where the players decide to proceed unless they (possibly sensing this and feeling ornery, as has happened to this DM) decide precisely to turn as far away from the set adventure as possible. Again this designer's motivating idea was to plot out a particular story and needed and expected to be able to manipulate PCs and events so as to facilitate it. (Something like module X10 fares far better, as numerous encounters are included, the timing of such are based on PC decision, and not all are expected to occur; although the scheduled climax, mandating one special weapon to defeat the one enemy's defense is rather weak, in my opinion. EGG's AD&D modules fare particularly well in this regard. Often, the writer must have the strength to forego any preplanned climax between particular people at a particular place and time: which gives the game that much more reality, as such climactic moments are rare and almost never conclusive. Again, my postmodern sensibilities will be detected by the astute reader.) Modules X4, X5, X6, and X9 all suffer from the author designing areas much too large to be adequately stocked.
(If some writers display a resistance to the design utility of static locations, one can draw an analogy with proponents of "method acting" in film and theatre. While the DM may see the façade being presented, the players will not, because it is precisely their presence and activity which create movement and dynamism in the environment.)
A worst case scenario is given here. I have refereed a game using (West End Games') Paranoia adventure "The Yellow Clearance Black Box Blues", in which all the PCs are poisoned and end up dancing spastically and uncontrollably at the end of the scene. While completely hilarious to read (note that the author is a Nebula prize winning novelist), it was absolutely frustrating and boring to players who could only listen to my (unmasterful) attempts to regale them with their own humorous antics. The players were ultimately unnecessary to the scene, and they knew it. They had come, in contradistinction, to play a game.

PLAYTESTING. Nowadays, one strongly suspects that the writers of the D&D game do not ever play the game themselves. This is gleaned from reading scenarios shabbily thrown together, and made even more clear from rules that are entirely unworkable. Example: the dominion rules presented in the D&D Companion Game, later transcribed unaltered in the D&D Rules Cyclopedia. These rules supposedly cover managing PC and NPC strongholds and baronies, but when this DM (trustingly) implemented these rules for a group of PC barons, the result was inhuman population explosions, huge amounts of wealth flowing into the PC coffers (far more than they could figure out how to spend!), and absolutely no duties or requirements put upon the PCs to supervise or affect this stupendous economic windfall. It was patently obvious that the game designers had never sat down and actually played with these rules to see how they worked.
Contrast this (and other examples) with EGG's rigorous playtesting prior to ever publishing a scenario (or rules). Usually, in his gaming sessions, he had from one, two, or three separate adventuring groups play the adventure, and because of this he has the stories (in the module introductions) of those who have gone before, things commonly done that the DM should be prepared for, and often added depth and history by actually having the scenario reflect previous adventuring forays (particularly in regard to modules WG5 and WG6, for example).
Of course, it's self evident why EGG was the only writer to include such information, and why the "Playtest" credit quickly disappeared from credit listings. Simply put, this would be the economic pressure to get product on the shelves, regardless of contents. At least in the earliest days, EGG was mainly a gamer who occasionally sought to help other garners by publishing his own gaming successes. When the game became industrialized under the TSR giant, such concerns became unimportant. (Nowadays, authors are more likely to seek progression from D&D writing to TSR novels, and I again maintain the opinion that the two modes of writing are, in their optimal forms, polar opposites).

NO NARRATIVE. The downfall of many adventures has been the attempt by the writer to write a story in which the players could participate: this always leads to player reactivity and dissatisfaction. Ideally, the adventure writer (or module publisher) should produce a number of static adventure locales for the DM to stock his/her world with, and leave several clues in different places directing interested players to each. Few writers are willing to do this, however, and few publishing firms are willing to allow this, as it makes purchase of each new product very optional (whereas a series of sequels mandates purchase for full utilization of any one part).
Consider the example of module X10 (1985), which entailed a campaign-shaking all-out war, but left the exact alliances and outcome (and results afterward) entirely up to the DM and players' play. In the more recent revision to this excellent scenario by TSR, the entire campaign is planned out, yearly almanacs must be purchased to track the exact action, and forthcoming modules are dependent on the campaign alterations included within. This disease is also present in other games: namely the large-scale alteration (or construction) of a campaign site so as to set the stage for a particular series of modules. Perhaps first was the Dragonlance saga, which worked well, but in that case the modules came first, followed by more general interest in the campaign world. The circa-1988 revision of the "Gamma World" game is another example: a new campaign boxed set, followed by five linked adventures set there, followed by the death of the game. Or the circa-1986 revision of "Star Frontiers" which immediately killed that game system.  Again, this kind of strong linking can be contrasted with EGG's nonlinear and tangential associations of the adventures in WG5, WG6, WG4, and S4.
Other examples are available everywhere. There is the Dark Suns setting by TSR, a fantasy boxed set launching a narrative in a series of modules. There is the progression of the campaign setting (and radical alteration) in the Battletech game. And, you have the "computer crash" staged in the Paranoia game setting, enabling a few new modules, and then the effective death of that system. Even the long-lived World Of Greyhawk setting perished by TSR's attempt to "breath new life" into it, where two boxed sets detailing massive changes to Oerth were followed by cancellation of the setting.
Again, the susceptibility of games to this disease is clear. To a publishing house, "breathe new life" into a game system means to sell more product, preferably the higher-priced campaign boxed sets. The strategy to this end is something like this: radically "update" or alter the campaign setting (and thereafter, all adventures and accessories), thus "mandating" that interested players purchase the update. The strategy, it seems, backfires: after the initial burst of product sold in the move, ultimately one loses total consumer base. Only some percentage of the previous gamers will purchase the new setting; those that decide not to are henceforth out of the game and won't be engaging in forthcoming product purchases. It seems highly unlikely that new customers will be attracted. And, in this narrowing of the customer base and interest (especially if the stratagem is played out multiple times, as with the World of Greyhawk "WARS" to "From the Ashes" boxed set devolution), the game becomes unsupportable and perishes. I predict (August 1994) that the same result will come from TSR's sudden turn to the long-established, and successful (if sometimes a backwater never suffering from a white-hot explosion of interest) D&D "Known World" setting, as they publish new "updates", "almanacs" and convert the setting to AD&D play.
Meanwhile, TSR's desperate attempts at luring new  players/customers/RPG'ers into the D&D game (i.e., expansion of the consumer base) with such forays as introductory D&D boardgames, videotapes, and CD audio disc games, have certainly alienated old gamers in their constant philosophy of simpler, simpler, simpler (that is, more childish). I don't know if this strategy is working for TSR, but it certainly seems as though the RPG gaming base is finite and limited, and my gut instinct is that such advances are limited at best.

ADULT THEMES. If one is writing or running a fantasy game, some of the most engrossing elements are those of dark magic, faerie races, demons, and ancient temples to lost gods. More than anything, these are the elements that lend the all-important sense of awe, wonder, and cosmic mystery to a story. Additionally, I propose that these are precisely the elements which have made the fantasy RPG the most durable and vibrant of all RPG genres: the physical existence of sentient gods and cosmic forces and blatant evils presents the greatest departure of place from the roles of students and workers in late 20th century developed states. The proper development of such themes must include such adult themes as scenes of (either threat or evidence of past) torture, sacrifice, violence, black magic, and sexual overtones; such activities actually occurred in the past, and the lack of such threats makes the evils not very much worth fighting against.
In the early days (the time of origins, perhaps, that mythic innocent condition) of RPG publishing, the adult writers were free to include such themes in the D&D works. I recall when the original "Eldritch Sorcery" booklet appeared in my hobby shop, complete with a completely naked woman prostrate on an altar on the cover! This kind of art (and the other stylized art forms which gave such a wonderful sense of the ancient, such as Erol Otus' excellent work) gave the rules and modules a palpable sense of danger, rawness, and excitement. 
As is well known, such imagery caused fantastic consternation among conservative and religious groups when the game form became popular among adolescent males in the late 1970's and early 1980's. Charges based mostly on D&D as induction into devil-worshiping cults and an "underground" culture of black magic, the occult, and witchcraft-type circles, along with the occasional rumor of a suicide by a D&D player connected to the game, so caught the public imagination, and was so useful to those religious authorities requiring dramatic dangers to the soul, that the game was banned in some areas and schools (the same rumor and threat of a ban occurring in a certain Maine community as late as the winter of 19931). This author considers such accusations as unworthy of a lengthy response. To TSR, however, this was of course a great problem: in the early days, apparently, a spokesperson was employed specifically for the purpose of appearing at public functions and debates to countermand these accusations. The value of these forums, seriously debating the presence of an insidious devil-worshipping cult among America's youth, was of such obvious value to certain religious figures that one author bemoans the end of this practice by TSR in an edition of Christianity Today.2
Indeed, TSR's response (around 1984 and on) was a "juvenilization" of the game, erasing adult themes, a promise to clothe women on the "Dragon" covers more fully, and mandates in the "Dragon" writer's guidelines to avoid all references to specific evil practices, successful evil figures, any reference to "gods" (in exchange for "powers" or "entities"), and basically making the game a PG or PG-13 version acceptable to all parents.3 Not that this has completed solved D&D's larger image "problem" (as in the late 1993 case), but it no doubt calmed the furor and eased the minds of TSR executives.
Now, precisely one of the most creative areas that EGG excelled at was in creating myths, stories about gods and unearthly places, and most of all, detailing the foes of humanity in demons, daemons, and devils of every sort. Surely it is no more than a modern-day version of what every ancient poet participated in (men writing the gods), but this forte of EGG was precisely what the new TSR dictum put a damper on. It is worth noting that almost every game after D&D has been able to maintain an adult tone, and adult attitudes towards (and explications of) peril and violence, but for some reason the flagship of the RPG industry has suffered the most intense examination and criticism in this regard.
At any rate, late-model D&D is unable to name or detail the gods, leaving them, and hence any priests and temples of worship, misty and indefinite places. For this reason, creation stories are absent, the myths are unclear, artifacts uninspiring, and histories uncertain. In every way, the campaign loses direction and so does the fantasy game itself. At its worst, evil becomes so uninspiring that it is relegated to comic relief, as in a certain "Dungeon" adventure where dwellers of the lower planes sport gaudy ties, Bermuda shorts, and bowler hats.4 Or, the wretched module H4, detailing a plane of the Abyss, where everything from demons to liches to undead zombies are basically played for laughs.

SIMPLE GAME RULES. Most importantly, D&D and other RPG's are, well, games. The rules should be just that, simple rules by which players and DMs know where they stand and can interact in a gamelike fashion (particularly in regard to combat and the like). The old playability vs. realism debate impinges upon this point, but in many current TSR releases the balance has swung so far to the latter that rulebooks read more like discussions on medieval topics than rules for play. Take, for example, the Companion Set "Dominion Confidence" rules that don't do any more than suggest that such morale levels can possibly rise or fall at a DM's wish. Or the "Champions of Mystara" set which is dominated by a storybook about someone else's adventure, and a general discussion on economics which contains about two or three actual numerical suggestions in thirty or so pages. Tacking on rules systems in odd supplements, with no general core agreement (such as whenever one wants a fleet of flying ships or for low-level characters to travel the planes) contributes to this problem. So does the baffling idea that in-character narrative passages are a good way to express information on settings and rules (starting with the old "The Ecology Of..." articles and now infecting every boxed set and booklet of TSR's), when clearly this device only obfuscates and makes information hard to find while a game is in progress. Apparently TSR's current readers have such a short attention span that they can't sit down and read concise rules; gone forever are the days when EGG would clearly explain the rationale of why such-and-such a rule had been devised, and how a DM could utilize it.
One of the worst examples of un-gamelike rules was the "Wilderness Survival Guide" (and in fact, most other weather generation systems). Great deals of meteorological information, how to go camping, what temperatures are high and low for any day, and so forth, are given, with little or utterly unwieldy information on how it would bear in game terms on characters. Movement rates given in miles, or yards per five minutes, and fatigue penalties in half-hour intervals, are all crushing game-spoilers, when players want to be able to move in daily or weekly units of time. Ideally, as in a boardgame, movement rates should be given in spaces-per-turn, whatever those measurements be, and players can then move figures or the like on a map and not be calculating excess or remainder mileage or fractions thereof. Even in EGG's new "Mythus" fantasy game the same problem occurs, where he gives ranges in degrees Fahrenheit for comfort in various types of clothing, with little direction as to what to do when those limits are exceeded, or how to determine the current temperature or how it changes. (To make these rules gamelike what is needed is some kind of determination if a given day is: hot/cool/cold, etc., in a handful of ranges, simple standards of clothing for each range, and a few dice damage if the PC is inadequately clothed. Compare this to the WSG system which gives: a dice roll for daily high/low temperatures and wind range... DM determination on an hourly basis as to exactly what the current temperature is... player calculation of "personal temperature", adding points for clothing (vs. current temperature), a "protected"/"unprotected" status determination, checking a wind chill chart, checking a humidity chart, adding points for armor, adding points for exercise or rest in five-minute intervals, campfire effects applied in 5-foot distance increments, etc., etc., culminating in cross-checking a temperature chart for actual effects: this, probably varying for each character and each gust of wind. To admit it, this system killed one AD&D campaign I had, when I tried quixotically to use the Wilderness Survival Guide system).
One of the strengths of D&D was its "class" system of professions, templates detailing character types and relative proficiency. On the one hand, players coming into the game were generally given exactly what the game promised: do you want to be a warrior or a wizard? A human or a hobbit? -- and this was exactly the class they received. In addition, it made detailing the hordes of NPCs used by the DM an easy task: consider when, in the text, we read that we have encountered a "C5". Immediately we know the character's profession, have a range for hit points, weapons usable, "to-hit" probabilities, saving throws, special abilities, and so forth. When D&D and other games (such as "Mythus") introduce chapters full of skills and relative proficiencies (as most games do nowadays), purchasable by characters, it certainly makes the PCs more personalized and specialized and interesting. However, it makes detailing NPCs a nightmare for the DM, as these skills really need to be detailed for everyone: notice in the "Mythus" and Paranoia game systems that it usually takes a whole page to detail any one non-player character's statistics (mostly this is all of their skills). The elegance and efficiency at the core of the original D&D rules and miniatures battles is lost. 

THE BIG PICTURE. My prediction is that paper-and-pencil RPG's will have a hard time surviving in the future against the dazzling variety and complexity of personal computer games available and being developed. In general, it is the same kind of person who participates in these activities, and as computing power becomes greater, and the games more comprehensive (many RPG's have been translated partly or in whole to computer games), most of these people will be able to pick their own games at their own times, rather than join a group playing one game. From a certain sociable standpoint, this is a little sad.
In one sense the timing of D&D's arrival was most fortunate, in the early 1970's, just before the arrival of universally accessible powerful computing machines. Both in the sense of the games available and time spent on the machines themselves (programming and hardware) the kind of intelligent individuals are, to a great extent, devoted to computers nowadays. I doubt if, in current times, with the preponderance of computers and "electronification" (digitization) of every sort of information, anything like RPG's could arise, in the sense of the communal sit-around-a-table telling stories to each other activity that it is and was. As a control measure, it would be interesting to have statistics tracking the sales figures for boardgames sales in the past few decades, to see if they have fallen with the rise of computer gaming.
In this writer's opinion, if this is the way in which RPG's fail and disappear, I submit that this newest and youngest genre of literature/drama will in fact constitute the first kind of literature actually killed off by the computer culture. EGG's writings were the first that I got my hands on and read avidly and researched, as a young reader, more so than actual fantasy or SF novels. If RPG's disappear over the hill as a publishing medium, it will be the test case, I think, that possibly in the future media such as magazines, newspapers, and even books might in fact evaporate into the atmosphere of the information superhighway.
Also, one will be hard pressed to ever again see the combination like EGG and the D&D core game system. No one has ever written RPG adventures with such flourish as EGG, and in addition his hand at writing cosmologies of depth and intrigue was unparalleled. I still think that the core "class-template" based D&D rules has a certain iron strength at its heart, and, of course, TSR still owns the property rights to all of EGG's earliest, most energetic and fundamental creations, now ten years after his departure from that company. (Meanwhile, almost every other game system that TSR ever offered forth in the intervening years has died off.) After all is said and done, I would like to think that this late 20th century activity echoing the earliest types of poets, artists, and academics sitting around a campfire telling stories to each other, and taking dramatic roles to play, would continue on into the future, but I have my doubts. At any rate, the industry has left its springtime explosion of growth behind, and is well into its mature and perhaps jaded years. As we watched the D&D game first develop and generate the RPG economic sphere, so too we now watch it to see if, in stumbling and faltering, it heralds the end of the role-playing game as it has been known for a quarter century now. 

Daniel R. Collins
August 20, 1994 (original)
October 31, 2000 (edited)
April 29, 2001 (edited footnotes)

	FOOTNOTES.

1 In this late-era case the media-publicized rumor concerned James Picard of East Corinth Central High School. The Penobscot County District superintendent threatened to ban the D&D game at this time.

2 Christianity Today, September 4, 1981, vol. 25, no. 15 (see also the issue May 17, 1985, vol. 29, no. 8). 

3 From Dragon magazine's 1989 Guidelines for Writers, p. 2: "Thus, we do not wish to portray profanity, graphic violence or sexual activity, or any other 'adult' topics." See also the "Game Wizards" column by James Ward in Dragon magazine #154 (Feb. 1990), p. 9, entitled "Angry Mothers from Heck", which at least one online commentator has described as "infamous".

4 This particular adventure comes from Dungeon magazine #23 (May/June 1990), p. 18.

	POSTSCRIPT. It's been 6 years since I originally wrote the preceding essay, and it's pretty interesting for me to go back, prepare it for the web, and make some minor editorial changes. My writing style has changed quite a bit (or at least I'm in a different frame of mind), and the gaming industry has changed a whole lot.
First of all, in light of my critique of the differences and tensions between games and narratives (stories), it was interesting to read an article by Greg Costikyan in Game Developer magazine last month (the September 2000 issue) which shared many of the same opinions (Costikyan authored the Paranoia, Star Wars, and Toon RPG's).
In the "No Narrative" section's last paragraph, I wrote, "I don't know if this strategy is working for TSR... my gut instinct is that such advances are limited at best." Well, apparently it didn't work very well at all. TSR went practically bankrupt and was acquired by Wizards of the Coast in 1997, which in turn was bought by the Hasbro company in 1999.
In the first paragraph of the final section, "The Big Picture", I said of computer gamers, "most of these people will be able to pick their own games at their own times, rather than join a group playing one game. From a certain sociable standpoint, this is a little sad." What I failed to recognize at the time was the potential of online multiplayer gaming, in particular the massively multiplayer persistent worlds that now exist. I guess that's what I get for not playing any MUDs in college.
	Finally, it was just this summer that, under the new corporate ownership, the 3rd Edition of the D&D game was released. In general, it looks very much like a labor of love, that the designers have seriously thought about the play of the RPG game, and that they've addressed almost all the criticisms in my essay with regard to circa-1994 TSR product development. They've even brought back Gary Gygax to write some columns for Dragon magazine. The only issue where the new rule-set diverges from my preferences falls under "Simple Game Rules" in the last paragraph -- the skills & feats system creates very long character descriptions, and I've seen it bog down play with a lot of page-turning and debate over how to apply any particular skill. But, it general, the new rule-set and philosophy is a definite turnaround for the game from what has gone in the last ten or more years. It should be interesting to see where it proceeds from here.

Daniel R. Collins
October 31, 2000
April 26, 2001 (added Appendix links)

Appendix
If you're interested in further research into certain Christian criticisms against D&D (as referenced in the "Adult Themes" section above), you may be interested in reading some anti-D&D essays. As of April 2001, Chick Publications (a Christian cartoon publisher) has two such essays linked at the bottom of their "What's New" website page here [http://www.chick.com/new.asp]. Also, a full copy of their 1984 anti-D&D comic "Dark Dungeons" can be found here [http://www.chick.com/reading/tracts/0046/0046_01.asp].