Retrospective: Wizardry

One of the many disadvantages of living in the aftermath of any kind of revolution is failing to appreciate fully just how remarkable were the initial sparks of that revolution. In 2022, computer roleplaying games are now so commonplace as to be unexceptional, even banal, to the point that there's even a widely used – and understood – abbreviation for them, CRPG. That wasn't always the case, though. In the first decade after the release of Dungeons & Dragons, computer technology was still sufficiently primitive that, despite the enthusiastic hopes of many (including Gary Gygax), there was still room for reasonable doubt about the likelihood that a computer program could ever translate the experience of playing a roleplaying game into a digital format.

Along came Wizardry: Proving Grounds of the Mad Overlord in September 1981 to send the naysayers packing. Certainly there had been other computer RPG programs before Wizardry. Just a few months prior, in June 1981, the original Ultima was released to great acclaim – and before both of them there were The Temple of Apshai and Akalabeth: World of Doom (the latter a kind of "rough draft" of Ultima), not to mention numerous simple dungeon crawlers and text-based games. However, none of these enjoyed the same kind of initial success or influence as Wizardry (though good arguments can be made in favor of Ultima's longer shadow over the development of subsequent computer games and genres). Since this post is from my point of view, I feel quite justified in focusing on Wizardry, since it was, along with Telengard, the first computer roleplaying game I ever played.

Like so many early computer RPGs – or, frankly, most computer RPGs ever – Wizardry takes its cues from Dungeons & Dragons. Characters may be of the standard four classes (fighter, priest, mage, thief) and five races (human, dwarf, elf, gnome, and hobbit). A simple three-way alignment system is also present, though rather than chaos, law, and neutrality, it's evil, good, and neutrality. Characters also have six attributes (Strength, IQ, Piety, Vitality, Agility, and Luck) that, while somewhat different from their D&D counterparts, are obviously inspired by them. Interestingly, the game introduces the idea of "elite classes," which are somewhat similar in concept to the Third Edition D&D notion of prestige classes. For example, there's a class called a "lord" that is open to good fighters of high enough attributes. If a fighter meets all the requirements, he gains the ability to cast priest spells, much like a paladin in D&D. 

The premise of the game is that an evil wizard, Werdna – Andrew spelled backwards and derived from the name of one of the game's creator, Andrew Greenberg – has stolen a magical amulet from the titular Mad Overlord, Trebor, and used its power to create a vast maze beneath Trebor's castle. This maze consists of ten levels of increasing complexity and difficulty. Trebor now recruits adventurers willing to brave the maze and face Werdna, which is where the player's characters come in. The player creates a party of six characters to explore the dungeon, locate its treasures, and increase in level as they do so. It's a very thin premise, but probably no more so than many early D&D campaigns. Indeed, I suspect a big part of Wizardry's appeal was how similar it was, both conceptually and mechanically, to Dungeons & Dragons, then and now the most popular fantasy RPG.

Like so many early computer roleplaying games, Wizardry was unforgiving. There was no ability to map within the game itself, meaning that a player, if he didn't wish to become lost, had to create his own map using paper and pencil, just like in "real" D&D. Also like real D&D, Werdna's mazes are filled with hidden doors, one-way doors, magical seals, and teleportation traps. These frustrate attempts to create an accurate map, This is in addition to the various monsters and other hazards that exist on each level. Wizardry did not allow the player to save his progress within the dungeon. Neither could a character gain a new level. To do either, the characters had to exit the dungeon and return to the safety of the Adventurer's Inn on the surface. Making one's way through the dungeon is extremely tense, since failure had genuine consequences. This is especially true in the deeper levels, since exiting them took a lot of time and effort and there was always a chance one might encounter more monsters along the way.

By today's standards, Wizardry is primitive, both in terms of its graphical presentation and gameplay. Even the simplest, most basic computer RPG of the 21st century is lightyears ahead of Wizardry when it comes to its rules and graphics. Yet, for all that, I don't think I've encountered a contemporary CRPG that has held my attention quite as powerfully as did Wizardry. Neither have I found one that struck the right balance between risk and reward, frustration and joy. Doing well in Wizardry took patience, cleverness, and not a little bit of luck, much D&D did back in those days. Succeeding felt like a genuine accomplishment and you quickly learned to cherish characters that survived more than a couple expeditions into the maze – and felt loss at their inevitable demise. Wizardry was by no means perfect – what game is? – but it was a hell of a lot of fun. I still look back on the many hours I spent hunched over my friend's Apple II playing with great fondness.