Sample Dungeon Using Proposed Generic One-Page Format

Time to put my money where my mouth is.

Here's a sample dungeon using the one-page format I proposed in my earlier post:

Again, the idea here is to present a "keyless" OSR dungeon that is usable, generic/system-neutral, content-rich, and requires the DM to refer to no other scenario materials.  It also assumes the existence of DM Text backround that the DM read and customized pre-adventure; the map above is for in-game usage.

Thoughts, criticisms, and comments welcome as always.

(Really irritated here at my inking, by the way, the smudges and other marring is really annoying.  Need to find a way to cover up those errors.  Used my usual H pencil overwritten with 1 mm, .5 mm, and .1 mm sepia pens.  Also, I need a shading technique to better offset the rooms and halls from the white background.)

Adventure Formats and the OSR

Some of the obvious accouterments of the old school renaissance have included intentional graphical and layout throwbacks to the previous era, particularly the Gygaxian format of adventure presentation.

OSR Format (roughly 1977 through 1983)

Using the Steading of the Hill Giant Chief as a template, the following format emerges as the traditional standard:

• Cardstock front and back cover with artwork/description
• Maps, typically on inside front and back covers (though sometimes at the end of the booklet)
• Booklet, staple-bound
• Short Introduction/DM Notes
• Fairly Short Background (Setting the scene, placement within game world, getting the PCs involved, etc.)
• Map Key, including wandering monsters, room descriptions, and descriptive artwork.  Text within the map key was kept brief except where further explanation was needed.
• Appendices (New spells, monsters, treasures, player handouts and artwork, etc.)

This is fairly typical of pre-Hickman TSR fare, all of which can be fairly said to be within the OSR wheelhouse.  Judges Guild materials of that era follow an analogous format, although virtually none had a cover and maps were usually printed inside the booklet or were separate fold-out affairs.

Later Tweaks & Content Bloat

As the game matured, the format of adventures was tweaked.  The biggest changes were in two areas: backround/story-related material (for Hickmanesque storyline-driven games) and in the quantity and bulk of text included in the product.

Once adventures became less site-based/sandboxy and more story-based, larger amounts of background and story material were required to guide DMs through various story flowcharts and matrices.  NPCs, in particular, became much more fleshed out and given a life of their own.  While the point of this was to enhance the "story" and dramatic aspects of the game, it undoubtedly contributed to content bloat within published adventures.  It further made the products less adaptable for individual DMs -- more story details require more work to customize to one's own game-world.

The other content infusion of note was the addition of descriptive "boxed text."  While the goal was laudable -- to provide greater immersion and verisimilitude -- the inclusion of subjective descriptors left some DMs (and many more players!) feeling that they were reading from a script and trapped by the content.  If the author was not both brief and evocative, boxed text became a millstone around DMs' necks.

Other tweaks to the format included improved quality maps and experiments with different types of maps, such as the famous quasi-3D iso maps of Ravenloft.

Encounter Format

One of the more irritating-to-grognards developments in late 3rd and most 4th edition adventures was the advent of what can be called "encounter format," in which everything needed to run a particular encounter was generally (though not always) on one page or two facing pages.  Thus, a detailed dungeon room, its monsters (and their game stats) and all tactics and "developments" were listed in one place.

While generally hated by the OSR due to the "encounter" nomenclature and the size of stat blocks necessitated by later editions of the game, the encounter format has one big advantage -- utility.  All of the traditional formats require a DM to juggle no less than three documents -- the map, the key, and at least one rulebook (usually the DMG or Monster Manual).  The encounter format eliminated that juggling and allows a DM to focus on the players, the flow, and the game rather than shuffling papers about.  This philosophy has developed its own subculture of sorts via the "One Page Dungeon" contest.

Building a Composite OSR Format: Goals

My mission statement, therefore: 

OSR content should be adaptable, easy to use, evocative, creative, and customizable. 

I would further add that we, as consumers of said content, should value such publications on these merits alone and not, say, by its sheer size or bulk.  Furthermore, OSR publications must by necessity adhere to the OGL -- requiring either close adherence to OGL rules or a more generic approach so as not to violate the license.  I advocate the generic approach simply because everyone is seemingly playing a different game.  Within the OSR itself there are at least three major subsets -- white box, Basic, and AD&D systems -- and substantial variation in basic game mechanics.

I therefore propose the following format for OSR site-based adventures:

• Notes/Introduction
• Background (brief)
• Small-scale overland map (optional)
• Unified large-scale map showing the entire site and labelling its sections
• Sectional small-scale maps done in "one page dungeon" style (i.e., "show me don't tell me") with clear links to other sections
• Appendices

By eliminating the Gygaxian map-and-key format and later hyper-wordy formats, the DM is given what he needs -- introductory materials to read and digest for application into his own game-world, and in-game materials to use while sitting at the table playing.  The "one page" sectional map format, by necessity, will provide brief information in order to avoid OGL problems and to keep it adaptable, it should be as generic as possible in terms of game mechanics and statistics.  The downside to this, of course, is that it will require that the DM either adapt the content to his rules system beforehand or have the rulebooks handy during play.

For those wanting to inject a "plotline" into OSR adventures, a slightly expanded background section and a one-page story flowchart is recommended for in-game reference.

So what do you think?  Would you consider buying and using a scenario in my format as described?  How strong is the pull of sentimentality of the Gygaxian format?  Is the size/bulk of a publication relevant to your perception of its value?

One-Page Dungeon 2012

This year's One-Page Dungeon contest is up and running, and I'm in.  I'll be submitting my freehand entry very shortly.  Best of luck to the other contestants!

I had a great time designing my entry, Holy Sword.  It's something I had kicked around for a bit but hadn't really considered for One-Page treatment until I started working on my freehand more and started to see the beauty of the key-on-map -- at least for my own use.  The next step was to make a key-on-map that was usable by other people that were coming to the product cold and with their own points of view.

One-Page, to me, means the following:

• Using as much of the page as possible within concept
• Going stat- and game-mechanics-free as possible -- both to save space as well as to keep it system-neutral
• Simple illustrations substitute for verbiage
• Brevity!  Less is more in descriptions!
• Providing real, usable content that is more than a skeleton or flowchart

Here's hoping my scanner can pick up the details and render them readable; I'd hate to start over!

That Old Feelin'

It started when I put my computer game habit to the side and picked up my pen & paper games again.  I'd never let go of PnP gaming, having maintained a place in Brodie's 3e/4e game as a player and 3e DM for the last 12 years, more or less.  But I noticed, frankly, that I wasn't being the kind of husband, father, and man I wanted to be while fully absorbed in computer games.  I started seeing clients whose marriages were falling apart due to computer and video games.  It was time to let it go.

But D&D is a different animal, to me anyway. It's a hobby, theater of the mind, a creative outlet, and a social occasion.  For me, computer games were a suppressant, a tranquilizer.  D&D expands my real life and engages both sides of my aging brain.

So the box(es) of D&D materials beckoned, and the writing started.  Once the writing (blogging, and campaign-building) began, a need for an audience formed with it.  I suspect this is a partial reason why people blog -- the dual need to "get it all down on paper" and express oneself combined with the very basic need to communicate on a brain-to-brain basis with those of a similar bent.

And then the old feeling came -- the need to DM again.  I suppose I knew it all along, but having written up Dunlyle, I needed to experience it, and not just to playtest it either.  I wasn't ready to just file it away or be content to occasionally pull it out and tweak it.  I needed to feel it and let it live.  Cue the Dr. Frankenstein analogies.

It will also give me a chance to playtest Joe Bloch's excellent Adventures Dark & Deep.

Judge's Guild Retrospective #3 (Grab Bag Edition): Field Guide to Encounters (vol. 1 & 2) or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Being a Fly-Man Were-Triceratops Ninja God

Another "cold" review, opening up the shrink wrap for the first time ever.  I'm pretty curious, and really, who wouldn't be with this sitting in front of them:

"I always liked the cover for that book, with the gorilla in the bed and the giant woman’s hand coming through the window. Didn’t like the coloring on that, but it was a fun cover." -- Bob Bledsaw.  Perhaps his taste in art and editorial decision-making here had something to do with the fact that mini-Kong here was drawn by Bob Bledsaw, Jr.  Just a thought.

That's right, friends.  THIS publication (written by Dragon's Byte, 1982) is the launch of a "new role playing system."  Does this staple-bound, newsprint-paper publication just get your inner gamer fire burning for a new game system?  What about the cover says "New Fantasy System" or even "Hey, there's 600 new monsters in here!"?  Nothing.  This is Confusing Aspect 1: the non-sequitur product title/artwork.

Remember, this is 1982.  To the left is a TSR product ca. 1982, Gangbusters.  Production values.  An actual design.  Artwork that sold the product and communicated what the game was about.

The second confusion?  How about the author, "Dragon's Byte"?  Turns out, thanks to this acaeum article (a real treasure trove of information, if you read between the lines), that the author is a collective of sorts, a game group from Detroit that submitted this material to Judges Guild for publication.  So JG decides to publish a two-volume product (a fan submission, essentially) ... with 600 new monsters, a new game system (more on that later) and little to no editorial control at the top.  Per Bledsaw: 

When they told me how many monsters they had I knew I could only have a small description and a single picture each. Unfortunately, there was a miscommunication with my art director (I think he was on vacation when it was scheduled for production) and none of the artists realized that the pictures were supposed to fit exact descriptions from Dragon’s Byte, especially the monsters from the novels. I didn’t see it before it left for printing, and when the Dragon’s Byte guys got it they were quite unhappy.

So neither Bledsaw nor the Art Director even looked at this pile of crap before it went to the printer.

Confusing element 3: the "New Roleplaying System" being published here in 1982 is ... wait for it ... NOT the Judges Guild Universal System put out in 1982.  That's right: one publisher putting out two competing game systems in one year.

So to recap: a product with poor labeling, artwork, production values, no editing, and homebrew content wildly conflicting with soon-to-be-published official product.  All in a gorilla-encased, $12.00 package.

I'm going to recover for a moment before I begin to review this turkey.  Deep breathing ensuing.

CONTENT REVIEW

The New Roleplaying System in the Field Guide has no name.  So I will call it the Field guide ROleplayinG System, or FROGS.

FROGS uses the standard six D&D ability scores, plus Cunning (cleverness, for thieving), Psionics, Magic, Tracking, Poison Resistance, and Lycanthropy.  All of the stats are generated on 3d6 except Psionics, Magic, Poison Resistance and Lycanthropy, which are on d%.  Ability modifiers are generally similar to OD&D, though one needs a high (16+) score to get a modifier, unlike D&D of that era.

FROGS then implements a host of secondary stats, including Willpower, Psionic Strength Points, and Genetic Spell Points.

We then learn that everyone starts at level 1, except "cult-based" characters, who start at a higher level.  This is the first and last time this is ever mentioned.

Hit points are interesting; after level 1, the PC has a chance of getting a new hit die (of a kind based on race, not class) -- fighter types always get new hit die as they level, but the wimpier classes roll a d% to determine whether they get more hit die.  This is done to accomodate the other conceit of FROGS, which is that it allows PCs to play any monster as a PC -- predating the Effective Character Level concept of Third Edition by a good 18 years.  Take that, WotC!

Skipping over some oddly-placed weapon material charts, we arrive to this gem: "Power Points and Manitou Combat."

I know a few gnome tinker-types that could go for this.  Actually, Manitou here refers to soul to soul combat between psionic combatants.

FROGS uses a spell point, rather than Vancian, magic system.  Presaging 3e's metamagic feats, FROGS refers to spell augmentations to change effects in exchange for a greater spell point expenditure.

We then have a wall-o-text for a few pages describing Lycanthropy and its various types, including:

• Were-Barracuda
• Were-Pteradactyl
• Were-Shark (ok, that's somewhat interesting)
• and my personal favorite, the Were-Triceratops.

How the herbivorous dino in question manages to impart its curse upon its victims is a question for another time.

Occupations (FROGS' version of classes) follow, including such heroic archetypes as the Acupuncturist.  I shudder to think of the impact of a thousand tiny needles jammed into a Beholder's central eye, for instance.

The class system does have a few interesting tidbits, though, presenting base classes that are effectively multilclassed.  Hence, we have the White Wanderer (a magic/psion), a Shifter (a lycanthrope/fighter), Crimson Seeker (psion/fighter), and Shadow Walker (psion/thief). I find this to be the most interesting bit of FROGS, considering that in standard AD&D of 1982, Psionics were an optional feature layered on top of the class system.  Here, psionics is embraced and whole new classes presaging 3e's Psionic Warrior et al are presented as interesting options.


After that glimmer of hope, the Field Guide retreats to its comedic muddle.  Nowhere are spells or psionic powers, a combat system, a movement system, or any other game mechanics described.  Thus, FROGS must be viewed as an Unearthed Arcana style overlay for D&D, C&S, or other FRP of the time, rather than a "new roleplaying system" unto itself.  But why derail this retrospective with serious commentary?

The middle 40% of volume 1 is dedicated to the Intelligent Monster Supplement, essentially adding a template to character creation to modify statistics and impart special racial abilities.  Wanna play a dolphin?  How about a fly-man (yes, it's what you are imagining)?  Why not a lycanthropic flyman ninja that's secretly a were-triceratops?  Oh yes.

The last parts of volume 1 describe how to become a god in FROGS -- kneel before me, my fly-folk were-triceratops minions!!  Further beyond we also learn what happens to characters with a 100 PSI score (they get Gamma World-esque mutations, that's what!), and finally, the cross-breeding allowed between the various intelligent monsters.  You will be happy to know that a troll and a bison have a 7% chance of successfully procreating.  That is all.

Volume 2, all 96 pages of it, is all monsters.  On page 78, I was elated to discover not only an entry for Toast, but one for Burnt Toast as well.  "Class: Construct: Burnt Toast with face/feet/hands."  Illustration: dark piece of toast, upright, with angry face and threatening gestures.

ART, LAYOUT, AND PRODUCTION

I think this (along with the cover) says it all:

On the plus side, there is a lot of content (there are a few diamonds to be found among the steaming piles of were-triceratops dung), but the art quality is consistent with JG's typical offerings of period, which is to say generally horrid.  A Kevin Siembieda piece on the back of volume 1 is a actually a quite nice gnoll drawing that was unfortunately butchered by a horrific inking job, rendering our hyena-headed humanoid a sickening shade of troll-green.

A bit of color type printing in parts of Volume 1 were a nice touch, given JG's low-budget production, but really just lipstick on this hog. 

Editorially, the Field Guide is a disaster, with a lack of proofreading for both typos and internal consistency.  Again, this was never JG's strong suit -- stronger on game tools than on game content.  Again, it makes one wonder whether this was what led TSR to pass on granting Bledsaw a renewal of the D&D license.

CONCLUSION:  There's little wonder that JG had 1,600 Field Guides left over (to end up shrink-wrapped and sold to grab-bag EBay suckers like me, two decades later).  The few interesting morsels of gaming goodness in these 192 pages of birdcage liner could have been summarized in a Pegasus article back in the day. 

I need a drink.

Jeff Reints review from '07 here.

How not to launch a new FRP game system

Yes, this 1982 publication of Judges Guild, complete with confusing-yet-humorous Fay Wray - King Kong switcheroo, was the launch of a new Univeral Fantasy System in the wake of JG's loss of licensure to produce D&D product.  Nothing says "ready to square off with AD&D" like a game system spearheaded by the efforts of an undersized, fuzzy purple-slippered primate.  I'll be reviewing this gem tomorrow in another Grab Bag Retrospective, but for now, the shrink wrap stays on.  Wish Kong luck, fellas -- looks like Fay is ready to play.

On Creativity

While writing my manuscript for Dunlyle (a fantasy mini-setting), about which I will likely blog more later, I stumbled onto a bit of a metawriting dilemma, to wit: how much creativity is enough?

In Fantasy RPGs, the Greats of fiction (the usual suspects) and those of the hobby itself (EGG et al) cast long shadows.  Layered on top of these genre expectations are our inherent Western cultural biases, myths, and legends.  Toss on top of that a few rulebooks written by fellow members of that culture, and any red-blooded American aspiring to write an adventure is bound to end up with a finished product that looks somewhat familiar, with castles and wizards and hairy-footed small humanoids.  Stranger still, I confess that I still find this familiarity comforting; Northern European flavored roleplaying appears to be my default setting.

This is insecapeable to some degree; we're all products of our culture.  No doubt a native of Japan, say, would have a prediliction to create settings, characters, and situations that are familiar to him.  Most creative people, however, eventually reach a second stage where, rather like the Beatles going to India, they want to inject new elements into their creative output.  Eventually, a fusion of sorts results between the artist's original formative influences and the stimuli to which he is exposed.  M.A.R. Barker's Tekumel is the classic example of a deliberate attempt to exert both artistic and intellectual creativity to break away from Tolkein-based fantasy fiction and gaming.

The question then becomes whether the artist's audience can maintain its interest in the new creative fusion.  How many citar-focused Beatles songs do their fans want to hear?  How much creativity is enough?  The "same only different" motto has to apply to one degree or another if the creative output is going to have any resonance with its intended audience.  While the artist's medium can certainly mold the audience in ways it was not intending to be affected, it must meet that audience's preexisting needs in some respect.

Quality is a factor, too.  We can tolerate something lacking in creativity (Ravenloft comes to mind) when it is well-done; and what is not new -- or even a cliche -- in the big-picture sense can certainly exhibit substantial creativity in the details.

The conclusion I have reached is this: to inject as much creativity and quality in the details as possible, even if the subject matter has been overdone for decades.

Transformation: from Gamer to Game Writer

I'd been following Joe Bloch's blog for awhile when I caught the notice for his self-publishing company, BRW games: "Now Accepting Submissions."

I had been tooling around with some ideas (having come back to pen and paper gaming after a short hiatus) when it occurred to me that writing for a publisher was the key missing piece for me.  Having precious little time to actually game, the idea of adventure writing during my free time grew into a passion.  After a few emails back and forth with the very gracious Joe, I began writing, using his excellent Adventures Dark and Deep beta ruleset as the gaming framework.

Writing about games is, clearly, very different than gaming, though many of us in the blogosphere seem to enjoy musing on gaming as much as the act itself.  What I was not prepared for, however, was the rather gaping chasm between being a DM and being a writer for DMs.  Now, after over a month of going at it, I can confidently say: it's harder than it looks.  As a fairly competent writer, I had no worries about being able to put proverbial pen to paper; my concern quickly became how to best organize my ideas into a coherent whole, and how to best capture those elusive ideas before they slipped away into the mental ether.  Pages and pages of yellow tablet paper quickly filled up.  Everything has to be explained.  One simply cannot expect implications, transitions, or clues to be obvious.  As part of discovering the need for Clarity, I achieved crystallization of a trinity of masters that I was to serve.  The quest of writing thus became a trial to attain three sometimes-conflicting objectives, Clarity, Creativity, and Productivity.

Creativity is, itself a fascinating topic.  My good friend Brodie is an expert on the topic of creativity and the very notion of the genesis of ideas.  What quickly became apparent to me was that in adventure writing (as in painting, sculpture, movie-making, or any other creative endeavor), it has all been done before.  As I drew and populated a low-level dungeon, I kept kicking myself -- oh, great, another lowbie Kobold encounter.  But I trudged onward, trying to make that Kobold encounter as memorable as possible.  Eventually, I gave myself a break, for at a slightly deeper level lurked the thought, "people expect it to be that way."  There was more than one Hollywood western, after all.  In the end, like Hollywood producers, I determined that the end result, creatively, should be the same only different.  By infusing creative organizational elements, interesting locales, new monsters, memorable NPCs, a variety of situations, and unique treasures, I could hopefully deliver something familiar yet interesting -- something worthy of a ten-to-twenty dollar gamer investment, perhaps.

Productivity is ever-present.  The output must be generated.  This requires real time in front of the keyboard and at the graph paper tablet.  To write something for the gaming public -- something that would be entertaining, useful, and worth spending actual money upon -- it needed sufficient bulk.  If all you do is "ideate" and organize, you will never have an end result.  Someone has to do the heavy lifting of hammering out the necessary prose, and it can be a chore.  There have been days when writing up ten dungeon rooms has felt like a major accomplishment.

I have finally submitted the manuscript and have (mostly) resisted the urge to go back and compulsively edit it more, and have moved on to the next project.  But it's hard to move on when the echoes of the last project are still bouncing around ...