Pulp Fantasy Library: Jewels in the Forest

The matter of the literary inspirations to Dungeons & Dragons is a contentious one and, to some extent, not unreasonably. For all the stories and books that clearly contain elements Arneson and Gygax borrowed in piling up the bricolage that became the world's first fantasy roleplaying game, there are comparatively few one could uncontroversially claim are its direct inspirations. For myself, I would point to Fritz Leiber's tales of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser as examples of such stories. Moreso than Robert E. Howard's Conan yarns or Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings – or indeed most putative contenders to the throne of D&D-stories-before-the-fact – Leiber's fiction comes closest, I think, to offering narratives that are not too dissimilar to what might go on in a D&D adventure. The key to this is not so much the setting or even the situations, though both certainly play important roles, but in the characters of Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser, both of whom very much feel like characters in a long-running RPG campaign played by good friends.

You can see a lot of what I'm talking about in "Jewels in the Forest," a short story originally appearing under the title "Two Sought Adventure" in the August 1939 issue of Unknown. (The original title was re-purposed for the 1957 collection in which it would later appear, along with several other stories of the Twain.) Take note of its publication date. That's only three years after the death of Howard and two years after the publication of The Hobbit. "Jewels in the Forest" is thus a very early example of the type of fantasy story that inspired D&D – and, to my mind, is a much better illustration of the kinds of adventures in which player characters engage, not least of all because of how Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser interact with one another and the world they inhabit.

The story begins with the bold duo in the titular forest, seeking out "the great treasure house" of Urgaan of Angargni. The Mouser had learned of the trove from an ancient scroll he'd obtained, whose margins contained "faint lines of diminutive red script." The script spoke of Urgaan's vast wealth and warned:

Let fools seek it. They shall win it not. For although my treasure house may be empty as air, no deadly creature in rocky lair, no sentinel outside anywhere, no pitfall, poison, trap, or snare, above and below the whole place bare, of demon or devil not a hair, no serpent lethal-fanged yet fair, no skull with mortal eye a-glare, yet have I left a guardian there. Let the wise read this riddle and forbear.

Rather than deterring him, the riddle only emboldened the pair, who are determined to find Urgaan's tower and steal away with its valuable contents. Along the way, they encounter – and put to flight – a group of bandits, whom the Mouser believes might have been in the employ of Lord Rannarsh, "a rich man and a greedy one, who slavers at the thought of jewels." Fafhrd is skeptical, calling his friend "oversubtle." Still, he agrees that they should be cautious before proceeding deeper into the forest. 

As they ponder their next steps from horseback, they come across a clearing that holds a peasant's cottage that is home to "a wiry old man, his skin as bronze as his homespun tunic." The Mouser calls to him, claiming that they are weary travelers seeking lodging for the night in exchange for some silver coins. The pair ask about "an old, deserted place … called the House of Angargni," who the man admits is only a short distance from his dwelling and yet he claims not to know anything about it. However, the man's son, who lives with him and four other family members, explains that "She's just an old place. No good for anything."

Unfailing in their intentions, the Twain set off to take a look at the place before supper is served. 

The treasure house of Urgaan of Angargni was a peculiar structure. The main feature was a large, shallow dome, resting on walls that formed an octagon. In front, and merging into it, were two lesser domes. Between these gaped a great square doorway. The tower rose asymmetrically from the rear part of the chief dome. The eyes of the Mouser sought hurriedly through the dimming twilight for the cause of the salient peculiarity of the structure, and decided it lay in the utter simplicity. There were no pillars, no outjutting cornices, no friezes, no architectural ornaments of any sort, skull-embellished or otherwise. Save for the doorway and a few tiny windows set in unexpected places, the House of Angargni was a compact mass of uniformly gray stones most closely joined.

Finding nothing obvious to aid them in their plans, they return to the cottage to dine with the peasant family. What follows is an absolutely delightful vignette, in which the Mouser performs feats of legerdemain to entertain them all, after which he shares wine from his own saddlebags. Fafhrd meanwhile sings sea-chanteys and lusty songs that prove equally amusing. It's a brief scene and yet it's probably one of my favorites in all of pulp fantasy, demonstrating not just the fundamental good-heartedness of the pair but also Leiber's skills as a writer. 

The next morning, as the duo head out for the tower – and whatever dangers lies within – the adolescent daughter of the peasant family sneaks up on them, out of concern, it seems, for their well-being. She asks them not to go there, because, she explains, "a giant be inside." Needless to say, Fafhrd and the Mouser are skeptical of her claim, but they humor her, promising "We'll be on watch for your gray giant." The conversation between them takes just long enough to delay their progress toward the tower, enabling them to spy the appearance of "half a dozen stocky men in black chain-mail shirts, bows on their backs, shortswords at their sides. They immediately recognized them as the supposed bandits they'd bested earlier, suggesting that, contrary to Fafhrd's doubts, they do indeed have a rival for treasure hoard in the House of Argagni.

"Jewels in the Forest" is a rollicking story of a seemingly simple theft becoming more complicated than anticipated, filled with mystery, tension, and, above all, camaraderie. It's this last quality that stands especially stands out to me and elevates not just this tale but all the adventures of the Twain as near-perfect exemplars of what a good roleplaying game session is actually like. Their loyalty to and affection for one another is without question, of course, but they bicker, insult, and disagree about the best course of action. They'll always have each other's back, but that doesn't mean they always pull in the same direction. If that doesn't sound like nearly every party of player characters I've encountered, I don't know what does.