Lessons from the OSR – Part II: The Classic Modes of Old School Play

 In my first installment, I provided the reader with two keys to better understanding old school rules.  In the second key, I named what I consider to be the three, classic modes of play for these games: the Dungeon, the Wilderness, and the Domain.

While roleplaying games (RPGs) like (A)D&D are considered to be freeform in general, they do have some structure, and not just in the form of rules, but also these modes of play.

All of the old school (A)D&D rulesets describe the three modes in some fashion, but in my opinion, Moldvay/Cook’s Basic and Expert sets, as well as Frank Mentzer’s revisions and expansions of these, which adds Companion, Master, and Immortals sets (colloquially known as BECMI and later compiled in the Rules Cyclopedia,) probably did the best job at distilling them for the inexperienced newcomer.  I am aware the Original and Advanced games also do this, but they tend to not be as clear, in my opinion (but still worth reading.)

Even if the Basic/Expert+  rulesets are not your favorites, they make great reference points for not just the classic modes of play, but also for their general play procedures, which are outlined (also in simulacra like Old School Essentials.)  

I’ll cover each of the three game modes in depth in future installments, but for now I want to give them give them a basic overview for the reader.

 

The Dungeon

Thanks to modern media and video games, the concept of a fantasy dungeon is so well-known that I would be wasting words (and the reader’s time) describing it.

Therefore, it is better to describe what an old school dungeon is not.  A video game “dungeon,” with a semi-linear, haunted house-like structure and convenient exit right after a main boss battle (I’m looking at you, Skyrim,) is not really a proper dungeon in the old school sense.   Similarly, modern RPG adventures with relatively linear “dungeons” of a few rooms are not a good examples of these, either.  Lastly, a small location with few rooms and not much variety in monsters and situations is not an old school dungeon, (but it could be a lair.  See below.)

Old school dungeons (described in the Original game as the Underworld) are what are known today as megadungeons.  There is typically only one (at least at the beginning of a campaign,) and it is the main location where most adventures in the campaign are likely to take place.

The original dungeons, Blackmoor and Greyhawk, had that color-plus-noun nomenclature because they were considered variants on the freeform wargame campaign, Braunstein, which co-creator Dave Arneson was a player in.  Blackmoor’s dungeon existed under an active castle that dominates the player's home town, while Greyhawk existed under the ruins of a mad wizard’s castle some miles away from a city by the same name.  Of course, your old school dungeon could take any form and evocative name.  I named my Dungeon23 entry last year Temple of the Snake Cult, inspired by the Mountain of Power from the 1982 film Conan the Barbarian.

Castle Grayskull was already taken, unfortunately.

Given these details, and according to descriptions in the classic rulesets, an old school dungeon is typically (but not necessarily) an underground complex of sprawling rooms and passages.  These are mapped over one (or more!) pages of graph paper, which essentially forms a flow chart, as imagined by a mad genius (or mad wizard.)  It has a beginning entrance (and likely some hidden ones,) but not necessarily an end.  Each room or chamber may contain treasures (hidden or guarded,) monsters (with or without treasure,) traps, and basically anything the GM’s devious mind can imagine, but most will contain nothing more than some litter and the remains of unlucky adventurers.  Empty rooms are important too, as they provide pacing and spatial options for player (and monster) tactics.

In turn, each of these maps form individual, but connected levels of increasing difficulty that track roughly to the character’s level in sequential order.  Old school games tend to follow an organic, rather than absolute idea of balance; the deeper one goes, the tougher things tend to get.  To track the connections between each level, most of the classic rulesets recommend drawing a cross-section of the complex.

These maps are kept hidden from the players, and the GM has notes, or a “key” which detail the contents of each dungeon room.  The players make their own maps and notes as they explore the place with the aid of the GM’s verbal descriptions.

A rare peek at Gary Gygax running what is likely one of the OG dungeons (Greyhawk.)  Note how the map covers the whole of one page, while the key on the opposite page is made up of short, easy-to-reference notes.

It is worth noting that the dungeon is not a static location to be used once and thrown away (although you could do that, I guess.)  It is meant to be used multiple times and possibly with multiple play groups.  One group of players who "clear out" rooms may come back later (in game time) to find new, monstrous squatters, or evidence that other players have also been there.

Once characters have a) survived and b) become more powerful (generally at least 4th level) they can explore more difficult dungeon levels below, or decide to challenge the dangerous Wilderness.

The Wilderness

Today, this is typically known as a “hexcrawl” or “sandbox.”  Personally, I prefer the first term over the second, as I feel the term “sandbox” conflates both wilderness adventures and the campaign as a whole (a topic for a later time.)  It also evokes video game features that don’t necessarily apply to old school campaigns.  Specifically, a constrained world map with a narrative “main quest” and “side quests.”  This may confuse the newcomer, and could lead to frustration, disappointment, and even bitter, salty tears when campaign expectation doesn't meet reality at the table.  However, I grudgingly use the term because I acknowledge it is both recognizable and widely-used.   You win this time, internet!

So what is the wilderness?  Like a dungeon, it is a map on a page of hexed (or squared, or triangled, or whatever) paper with geographic terrain features and marked locations, including the main dungeon and home base settlement.  

A closeup of my Dungeon23 wilderness, the Northern Marklands.  The home base of Alkastra is on the middle right and the  main dungeon is to the west in hex 1614.  A location of interest (hex 1815) lies between them.

 

Like dungeons, each hex represents a distance (in miles; anywhere from about one to twelve, with five being the Original standard.)  The map is also kept hidden from players as they explore (and possibly become lost) making their own map along the way.  Unlike a dungeon, there are no passages or rooms, and the players can pretty much go anywhere.  There are also no levels per se, so the players can encounter practically anything on their adventures via random encounters.  This is why they should have some levels of power and a small, military force behind them, funded with that gold they found in the dungeon, of course.  Wilderness adventures are for leveled and wealthy Chads and Chaddettes; not the faint of heart or dungeon poors.

 

The wilderness adventure is in my opinion, among the least understood (and therefore the most mysterious and enticing) of the classic game modes.  The authors of Original game recommended using the board from the obscure game, Outdoor Survival.  While they describe using this map for “off-hand” wilderness adventures, they indicate that “Exploratory journeys, such as expeditions to find land suitable for a castle or in search of some legendary treasure are handled in an entirely different manner.” Unfortunately, they don’t really go into detail as to how they are different.  So it goes.  Various recreations of this map are available online.  Here's one by Rob Conley from the Bat in the Attic blog - a master of the wilderness sandbox concept.

According to anecdote, and perhaps gaming legend, the wilderness adventure came about when Dave Arneson’s players, distracted by dungeoneering (which was understandably the “new hotness,”) failed to participate in a scenario to defend the castle and town of Blackmoor from invaders.  As a result, the town was taken by the “baddies,” and the players were subsequently exiled into the wilds south of the main map, which was represented by the Outdoor Survival map.   It is my understanding that the players also built their own domains (see below) on this map.  Perhaps Gygax’s campaign did things differently, but lacking information, I’ve decided to err on the idea that wilderness adventures and the “exploratory journeys” indicated above are so similar as to be nearly indistinguishable in the practical sense.

The Cook/Marsh Expert set sheds some light on how to create one’s own wilderness map, with the additional example of the adventure module, X1 Isle of Dread (included in the Expert set.)  While the island bears little similarity to the example of the Outdoor Survival map, it covers the general ideas behind wilderness adventures, and it’s a great adventure module; because dinosaurs.

It is worth noting that one of (if not the first) company that made supporting products for D&D early on, Judges Guild led the way on the wilderness adventure concept early on with their Wilderlands series of products (sadly unavailable at the moment due to controversy.)  Among other things, the Wilderlands products included maps with numbered hexes for easier reference, and a key that included the features described in the Original game’s wilderness example.  It also had randomized system for creating ruins that the players could discover, which could range from some burnt embers, to an ancient (and possibly functional) space ship!

Going off of the Original wilderness example, combined with the examples of the Wilderlands, and the Expert set/Isle of Dread, we can conclude that wilderness hexcrawls tend to include the following:

 Settlements 

These can be safe havens or “home bases” of various sizes for the characters to rest and resupply (as they do before and after dungeon adventures.)  Alas, the Original game’s authors mention, but give little guidance on urban adventures, save for encounter tables, which to be fair, could become adventures unto themselves.  Therefore, I feel it is safe to say that urban adventures are a component of the wilderness game mode.

Judges Guild took a successful crack at the concept with their first product, the City State of the Invincible Overlord, which is a city within their first Wilderlands map, mapped and keyed in a dungeon-like manner.  

Mentzer’s Expert set fleshes out a home base (the town of Threshold) and includes some adventure ideas “in town,” but not much additional guidance on running these.

For my Dungeon23 home base, the City of Alkastra, I took a combined approach with some keyed entries and adventure ideas sprinkled within, along with an encounter table.

Monster Lairs

These are essentially mini-dungeons or set-piece battles (remember, wargamers) featuring one kind of monster’s home plus any associated pets or allies, along with treasure, the details of which tend to be under each monster’s entry.  The authors of the Expert set recommend creating some of these lairs in advance to have on hand (and I concur.)  It is easy to find free maps online these days to use for lairs.  

It is also worth noting that the Original and Advanced games feature a percentage chance for each monster to be found “in lair” but this is for random encounters and not lairs the GM has deliberately placed on their wilderness map.

Castles

These are the strongholds of high-level adventurers, their hirelings, henchmen, and/or pets.  They function as both examples of what the players could accomplish themselves, or individual little “Blackmoors” players could invade.  Why pay to build a castle when you could just capture one and refurbish it?  Easier said than done, though.  The players are in somebody else’s turf now, and they don't have the home field advantage!

In the Original rules, these castles can become the source of adventures themselves.  Fighters may duel players for their stuff, and both wizards and clerics may send the players quests to find stuff (typically via magical coercion.)

Ruins

These could be the “upper works” above dungeons, or remnants of places and even objects, if you go by the Judges Guild Wilderlands tables.  They may also end up being monster lairs onto themselves.

 

These features are really only a starting point.  Like dungeons, the contents of a wilderness hexcrawl are only limited by the GM’s imagination. Another tip:  those treasure maps you rolled in the dungeon treasure?  The wilderness map is where you can place them, providing an incentive for players to explore.

So what’s the point of wilderness adventures?  Like dungeons, the brutal (but lucrative) environment can prepare the characters for the next classic game mode: the Domain.

The Domain

So you’ve survived the dungeon, fielded a military force, battled your way through the wilds, and built (or captured) your very own castle.  What’s next?  Rulership!  Game of Thrones time, baby!

Dun, dun…Duh-duh-dun, dun…(c’mon, you know it!)

This is pretty much the end stage of the classic game, but it is worth noting that the original campaigns, being considered wargame variants, had features of this game mode from the beginning (see Blackmoor's wilderness anecdote above.)

At this point (about levels 9+, but really as early as they can afford to build strongholds,) characters enter a state of semi-retirement as play can slow down (in game time) to months and years, and the campaign takes on the character of a strategic wargame.  These settled adventurers may even become the patrons of new player characters, because clearing out a goblin lair is for Basic bitches.

In a nutshell, the character(s) clear an area (about 24-30 miles) of any monster lairs and other threats and build a castle or some other stronghold, like a wizard’s tower, fortified temple, craft beer hall, or whatever.  This causes settlers to flock to its safety (that wilderness is harsh, man!)  The happy or oppressed villagers (depending on the character’s alignment) then work the local resources and pay taxes to the character as their lord and liege.  The character in turn, needs to protect their new charges and domain from any new, encroaching monsters or other invading forces (which could include other players!)  Over time, and with many victories, a character could carve a vast kingdom of their own.

It’s almost as if the Original game's authors were fans of a certain literary character

The classic rulesets tend to cover a little more details, with costs for building the stronghold and hiring mercenary soldiers and professional staff, but little else.  I suspect that again, the authors of the Original game assumed the reader knew (and perhaps had rules for) handling such a wargame campaign.  Dave Arneson’s The First Fantasy Campaign (also by Judges Guild and also sadly unavailable,) does elucidate further on this game mode, including things only hinted at in the Original game, such as players having investments in the game world: trade, businesses, public works, and even tourism!

“…and here in this spot is where the Sir Deuces vanquished the Hobgoblin King Snarg and is said to have tea-bagged his corpse.” (AI image courtesy of Bing Image Creator)

In Mentzer’s Companion and Master sets (also the Rules Cyclopedia,) the author includes systems for this mode of play, including a mass combat and sieges, and expands the endgame further into potential apotheosis (“immortality”,) which goes beyond the scope of the Original game (and that Immortals set is more than a little whacky.) 

Another key feature of Domain play is events (random or otherwise) that occur during the course of the campaign year, which players may have to react to.   These typically involve anything from incursions, to full-blown invasions, but could also include natural disasters, rebellious peasants, plotting nobles, and other burdens of rulership.

Conclusion

These modes are not absolutes and you’ll find that there are nearly unlimited, creative avenues one can take for each, but it is worth learning their basic structures, just like one learns to walk before they can run (or crawl before that.)

Are the three game modes the only ways to play?  Far from it, but I've come to feel old school (A)D&D games work best when structured in this manner, even considering the games’ amazing level of flexibility.  Other RPGs have their own implied modes of play.  Traveller is about misfits-on-a-spaceship free-tradin’ and trouble-makin’ across a hexcrawl universe like the show Firefly, while Call of Cthulhu’s main game mode is investigation-based, with the player characters slowly discovering Lovecraftian things (often tentacled) that humankind was never meant to know (and go insane while doing it!)

Pretty much

There is nothing saying one can’t invent new ways to play these games.  You could argue that the entire, now 50-year history of D&D and RPGs has been experimental, and different editions of the game have taken it in various directions (some better than others.)  The casualty of this has been the old school play style, which like in a game of Telephone, its message has been distorted through the years.

If the reader will allow a self-indulgent rant, I feel newer versions of D&D, or at least as popular culture would depict them, favor amateurish acting, power fantasy fulfillment, and pre-ordained narratives over actual, emergent game play.  This is not necessarily a new thing.  Even in my youth, there were arguments about ROLE-playing versus ROLL-playing, with the "ROLE” part being considered superior to “ROLL” in the way wine snobs like to poo-poo on boxed wine, (which is obviously the frugal, practical, and just-as-delicious choice.)

In this economy, I’m not paying more than $3-5 per bottle of Jesus juice!  (Adapted from AI images courtesy of Bing Image creator.)

 In my opinion, it takes both of these in balance, like Yin and Yang, to have a good game.  “Role” without “roll” is just playing simple make-believe and “roll” without “role” is a board game.  (Not that there is anything wrong with board games.  Mrs. Weregrognard and I love board games!)  But you know, Golden Rule and all that.  Playing soap opera with miniatures is just not for me anymore.  Been there, done that.

 

This is not to say that epic stories don’t happen in old school (A)D&D, but the difference is that these stories emerge organically through play, and are not pre-determined or imposed by either the GM, players, or a published adventure.  Understanding the basic modes of old school play can get you there, but you’ll also need to understand the difference between the terms adventure, session, module, and campaign in the old school sense, which is coincidentally my next post in this series.

See you next week!