Monday, October 28, 2024
King and Aces
Jump Dimming
To show how thoroughly my brain has been colonized by roleplaying games, my immediate thought, upon seeing the lights dimmed, was of Traveller. In the Third Imperium setting, there's a practice known as jump dimming. What happens is that a pilot dims the interior and exterior lights of his starship for about two minutes before entering jumpspace. During the early days of jump travel, a starship needed every joule of energy to power its computers and jump drives in order to create a stable jump field. That's no longer the case – if it ever was, since it's considered a superstition within the setting – but the practice persists among Vilani pilots, even thousands of years later.
I always thought it was a cool bit of setting detail, the kind of thing that helps bring the Third Imperium alive and distinguishes it from other science fiction settings. I especially liked it because it's described as being a superstition and that's the kind of thing that should exist, even in a sci-fi setting, and yet I rarerly see such things. Instead, most science fiction settings are rather dull and antiseptic, completely ignoring the way that human beings (and, presumably, other intelligent species) attempt to make sense of the universe by imposing on it an order and rationality that isn't always in evidence (and may indeed not even exist). So, score another one for Traveller.
Except that jump dimming is a contrivance created for an adventure. Back in 1986, in the waning days of classic Traveller, before the publication of MegaTraveller, there was a licensed Traveller fanzine called The Travellers' Digest – more on that later this week – that I started reading in high school. Issue #4 includes an adventure called "The Gold of Zurrian" that take place entirely aboard a starship. During the two-minute period when the ship's lights are dimmed in preparation for jump, one of the passengers aboard is murdered. Solving her murder while in jumpspace forms the bulk of the scenario and the superstition of jump dimming was invented solely to provide cover for the murderer to do his dirty work.
The fact that jump dimming didn't exist prior to the publication of issue #4 of The Travellers' Digest does nothing to lessen my appreciation for this bit of worldbuilding. Indeed, I actually think that knowing its origins increases my appreciation for it. The writers at Digest Group Publications succeeded in creating something that felt completely plausible within the context of the Third Imperium setting, even though its ultimate origin was utilitarian: how to have a murder take place aboard a starship without being seen. In the years since, jump dimming has become an accepted, if minor, part of the Third Imperium setting. I doubt many players even know its origins or care.
I won't go so far as to say that something like jump dimming could only have come about in a roleplaying game, but I do think that RPGs frequently punch well above their weight when it comes to good ideas like this. This is especially true in games that are played regularly. Referees need to create all sorts of things in response to player actions or to set things up for a particular kind of in-game situation. I know I've done it countless times and I doubt I'm alone in this regard. To that end, if you've come up with something through play that then "ascended" to become a fixture of a game setting, I'd love to know about it in the comments.
Friday, October 25, 2024
The History of TSR
L to R: Mike Mearls, Jeff Grubb, Ed Greenwood, Steve Winter, David Cook |
Thursday, October 24, 2024
Gaming with Allen Hammack
For the purposes of this post, I don't have a lot to say about the scenario itself, since it's old and probably quite well-known to most readers of this blog. Instead, what most interests me and that I think is most worthy of attention is the way Mr Hammack ran it at the table during the con. Bear in mind that Hammack was employed by TSR Hobbies between 1978 and 1982, where he worked as a writer, designer, and editor, primarily on the AD&D. I mention this to provide some context to what follows.
The module is designed for five pre-generated characters, all human – a fighter, a cleric, a magic-user, a thief, and a monk. I played the cleric, Zinethar the Wise, who was 9th level and, oddly, had slightly more hit points than the fighter. The module assumes that all the characters with the exception of the monk are condemned criminals who are offered the opportunity to escape imprisonment by undertaking a dangerous mission for the Duke of Urnst (in the World of Greyhawk), namely, the recovery of the Soul Gem from the titular Ghost Tower. I knew none of the other four players prior to play, so we had to learn to work together to succeed.
Mr Hammack is an older gentleman. I have no idea his actual age, but I suspect he's probably in his late 60s or early 70s at least. Despite this, his mind is very sharp, especially when it comes to the AD&D rules. More than once during the four hours we were at his table, a player asked a question about how, say, a spell functioned. Before someone could find the appropriate page in the Players Handbook, Hammack recalled the relevant information – and correctly. After a while, we learned to trust his memory over our ability to flip pages quickly. I bring all this up, because it supports my long-held contention that hobbies like roleplaying are good for the health of your brain.
Given how well he remembered the rules of AD&D, another question that came up was how strict Mr Hammack would be in applying them. He chuckled and said that he was generally quite flexible about doing so, with a couple of exceptions. Going back to spells, Hammack explained that he is often loose with spell durations but he was more rigid about areas of effect. Likewise, he noted that he was loose with encumbrance, unless he felt a player was trying to take advantage of a situation. He then told a terrific story about how he and other AD&D players of his acquaintance would use 3×5 index cards for character sheets, with stats being written on the front and equipment on the back. Anything you could fit on the back of an index card – in legible writing – would probably not bring encumbrance penalties into effect.
Mr Hammack's overall approach to rules was governed by common sense. He clearly knew the rules and was prepared to apply them when he felt it necessary or appropriate, but he never felt bound by them. Indeed, he could be talked out of applying them by a good argument from a player, as he was on at least one occasion. At the same time, Hammack was also quite clear that his decision was final. Once he'd made a decision and considered any input from the players, there was no further arguing of the point. That he was fair and judicious probably explains why no one argued with his final decisions – that we were all middle-aged men, not children probably helped, too. I found the whole experience quite refreshing, to be honest.
I should note that, despite his extensive knowledge of AD&D rules, Mr Hammack was not above introducing house rules into play. For example, there were many occasions when he asked us to roll under a character's ability score to determine if our characters succeeded at some action or other. Likewise, he made use of a simple critical hit/fumble mechanic that's definitely not something Gary Gygax would ever have approved of. The mechanic worked fine in play and even contributed to a number of fun moments, which was exactly what we all hoped for.
In sum, I had a great time at Allen Hammack's table. He was a charming, knowledgeable, and imaginative Dungeon Master and he made me appreciate how good a module The Ghost Tower of Inverness actually is. I consider myself very lucky to have played with him at Gamehole Con this year.
Wednesday, October 23, 2024
Unplugged
I know it's common for people to joke that they're technophobes, but I'm the real deal. I'm not merely a slow adopter of technology; I'm actively hostile towards many forms of tech, especially those whose function intrudes upon our everyday lives. Consequently, I do not now nor have I ever owned a mobile phone of any kind, including a smart phone, which I unironically believe is one of the most damnable pieces of technology man has ever conceived.
Once I left my home last week for Gamehole Con in Madison, Wisconsin, I was effectively incommunicado. Without a phone, no one, not even my family, could reach me. I made prior arrangements with friends to meet me at the airport. However, if my flight were delayed or, as it turned out, arrived twenty minutes early, there was no way to inform them of this fact. The likelihood that there'd be some sort of schedule change either going to or coming back from the convention were high, since I had connecting flights both ways. That I encountered no airline problems was something of a minor miracle.
Of course, until about a quarter-century ago, most people didn't own mobile phones at all and they nevertheless traveled across the globe. Our current era of interconnectedness and instant availability is an aberration in historical terms, but most of us have become intensely accustomed to it, to the point that we can't even imagine anything different than our present circumstances. I know that, before the con, at least a couple of acquaintances asked me to hit them up on Discord when I arrived, so we could coordinate a time and a place to meet. Lacking the means to do that, we had to make do with more primitive means of meeting up. Fortunately, Gamehole Con is small enough that finding someone isn't that hard, if you're sufficiently motivated.
Of course, my friends all have smart phones, so I could simply borrow theirs to quickly check my email or Discord messages. In fact, I tried to do so. I say "tried," because, when I made the attempt, Discord noticed I was doing so from a location different from my usual one. To log in, I'd need to enter a code sent to my email address to confirm my identity. Alas, getting into my email proved similarly difficult, as Gmail, too, recognized I was not in my usual location and would only allow me to use it if I sent it a code that it had sent to my backup email address. Guess what happened next? That's right: an endless circle of dual factor authentication I could not circumvent by any means.
Similarly, when I checked in at the con to collect my badge, I expected I'd also be given physical tickets for my various events, as I had in the past. Nope! I'm not sure when Gamehole Con transitioned to virtual tickets – it must have been sometime after 2018, when I last attended – but, whenever it was, I was now expected to make use of a smart phone to demonstrate my having paid and signed up for my events. I was able to rectify this with the organizers, who took pity upon me and printed out some tickets for me to carry around. However, the fact remains that Gamehole Con, like almost everything these days, simply takes it for granted that I must, of course, have a smart phone.
What's fascinating is that nearly everyone I encountered who learned of my lack of a phone expressed wistful admiration of me. "I wish I could do that!" or some variation of it were common statements. And the truth is that there are many benefits to not having a phone, especially at a convention. For instance, I was never once distracted by calls or notifications, as were too many people, even during games. I was free to focus on the matter at hand. When I was distracted, it was by something happening nearby in the real world, like the hoots and hollers of a nearby table, as a player rolled well (or badly) or as a man dressed as an orc and carrying a large ax walked by. I got to experience Gamehole Con unfiltered, unmediated by anything but my own senses. It was wonderful.
That's why I went to the convention, after all: to be present. I don't want to sound like some New Age guru spouting off platitudes about mindfulness, but I do think we too often miss out on valuable interactions and experiences because we're distracted by the ever-present allure of technology. The number of people I saw at the con sitting down and scrolling through their social media accounts was larger than I'd have liked it to have been (though far less than what I saw in airports or on planes – yikes!). I was in a unique position not to have the option to do this. I had no choice but to be present and aware of everything that was happening around me – and I believe I had a better time because of it.
Additionally, I was completely cut off from the news, whether local, national, international, or even just the news of our shared hobby. I fight against the notion that ignorance is bliss, but I can't that having no knowledge of what was going on in the world beyond what I could see and hear right in front me was a welcome respite, one that enabled me to enjoy myself more fully than I might otherwise have. I was at Gamehole Con to play some RPGs and hang out with friends, both old and new. Focusing on anything else would have been a distraction. Why would I want that?
Tuesday, October 22, 2024
Thoughts on Gamehole Con 2024 (Prologue)
As I've explained before, I first attended Gamehole Con in 2017 – my first convention since GenCon 2001 (unless one counts OSRCon). I enjoyed the experience enough to go back in 2018. I intended to do so again in 2019 until a run-in with a car at a crosswalk interceded. I also intended to return in 2020, but Fate once more prevented my doing so. By 2021, my nascent habit of attending GHC had been broken and I didn't seriously consider going once more until this year, thanks in no small part to the stated intention of a couple players in my Twilight: 2000 campaign to do so.
That was the push I needed and I am grateful for it, because I had a blast at the con. Perhaps my favorite part was seeing people in the flesh. Though I've refereed the House of Worms campaign for nine and a half years now, I've met fewer than half of my players in person. Don't misunderstand me: I consider all my online players my friends and am deeply grateful for them and the time they spend with me, but hanging out and gaming at the same table together just feels right and good in ways that simply can't be replicated in a virtual space. Gamehole Con demonstrated this truth again and again.
Among the people I got to hang out and/or roll some dice with whose names you might recognize were:
- David "Zeb" Cook: Former TSR designer.
- Jeff Grubb: Former TSR designer whom I first met years ago.
- Allen Hammack: Former TSR designer, who refereed me and four others in his classic AD&D modules, The Ghost Tower of Inverness (about which I'll have much more to say later).
- Jason Hobbs: Host of the Hobbs & Friends and Random Screed podcasts.
- Mike Mearls: Former WotC designer, now working with Chaosium. He refereed me and several others in a fun RuneQuest adventure scenario.
- Marc Miller: Creator of my favorite roleplaying game, Traveller, and one the nicest, most gracious people I know in the hobby – a true gentleman.
- Travis Miller: Fellow blogger, whose Grumpy Wizard site is devoted to sword-and-sorcery literature and old school gaming.
- Victor Raymond: An old and dear friend of mine, as well as my co-host on the Halls of Blue Illumination podcast.
- Seth Skorkowsky: Youtuber and author, who played the most awesome Yelmalio cultist in a RuneQuest session.
- Steve Winter: Former TSR and WotC designer.
- Ronin Wong: Actor and fellow lover of Holmes Basic.
Monday, October 21, 2024
Return
I am now safely returned to my lair, after spending a delightful five days in Madison, Wisconsin at Gamehole Con. I have a lot to share about my time there and the many fellow gamers, both well-known and otherwise, whom I met. Regular posting will resume later today or, more likely, tomorrow, as I'm still recuperating from my travels.
Wednesday, October 16, 2024
Off to GHC
Until then!
Tuesday, October 15, 2024
The Articles of Dragon: "Languages Rules Leave Lots of Room"
Monday, October 14, 2024
Our Toughest Challenge Ever
As if to prove my point, last week's Dark Sun posts have generated a lot of interest, not to mention comments, which I appreciate. Here's another ad for the setting, this time from issue #173 of Dragon (September 1991), the same issue as the Brom cover I previously highlighted.
- It's important to remember TSR's D&D novels were very successful for the company, so it's no surprise that the release of the Dark Sun boxed set would also see the release of a novel at the same time, in this case Verdant Passage by Troy Denning. Though I never read any of them, there would eventually be thirteen novels published for Dark Sun during the TSR era.
- Speaking of TSR, is that not the logo at the bottom right the ugliest the company ever had?
- Once again, we see this ad emphasizes that Dark Sun is "the toughest AD&D game campaign ever published." I can't help but wonder what this is about. Was there a perception at the time that TSR's other settings, like Dragonlance or the Forgotten Realms, were "easy" or otherwise inadequate to the tastes of AD&D fans? My recollection, albeit from more than three decades ago, was that the 2e era was concerned far more with "story" and similar things, so I wouldn't have expected much clamor for a "challenging" setting. Perhaps that's the explanation? Could it have been that there some segment of the game's fans who felt the game had strayed too much from its roots and wanted a setting where death was ever-present? I wish I knew.
Friday, October 11, 2024
Wulfwald Bundle of Holding
That's why I wanted to draw your attention to a new one that I think many readers will appreciate: Wulfwald. It's a low-fantasy, old school RPG inspired by Anglo-Saxon myths and legends. I bought a print copy of the game a couple of weeks ago and love it. I'm in the midst of writing a review for it, which I hope to have finished before I leave for Gamehole Con next week. However, the sale only runs until October 17 and I wanted to alert everyone to it now, in the event I don't complete that review before I depart.
For only $5.95, you get all five rulebooks in PDF form, along with an electronic black-and-white regional map of the game world drawn by the late, great Russ Nicholson. At that price, I think it's more than worth it and I highly recommend it to anyone fascinated by early medieval Britain.
The Darkest Shadows
Whatever one's feelings about the setting itself, Gerald Brom's artwork for Dark Sun was truly stunning. Take, for example, this piece which appeared on the cover of issue #173 of Dragon (September 1991), one month before the formal release of the boxed set. The issue featured a number of different articles intended to introduce Athas to the magazine's readers, but, for me, this cover image probably did more to sell me on Dark Sun than did any of those articles.
Character Trees
I hadn't intended to devote so many posts to Dark Sun, but they've proven quite popular and have generated a lot of discussion, so I thought I'd do a few more that I think have a wider relevance for fans of old school roleplaying games. In its advertising, TSR frequently described the world of Athas as AD&D's "toughest challenge ever." This train of thought can found throughout the boxed set's rulebook as well, such as this paragraph:
Thursday, October 10, 2024
The Dawn of a New World
Here's another teaser advertisement for Dark Sun, from Dragon #172 (August 1991) – a month before the formal release of the game. What stands out to me about this ad is that it calls the setting AD&D's "toughest challenge ever" or some variation thereof. This makes me wonder more about the genesis of the setting within TSR and what segment of the game's audience the company was hoping to attract.
A Drama of Unparalleled Heroics Unfolds
The second teaser advertisement for Dark Sun, this one appearing in issue #171 of Dragon (July 1991).
Wednesday, October 9, 2024
Coming This Fall ....
From issue #170 of Dragon (June 1991), the first of several teaser advertisements for the Dark Sun campaign setting.
Retrospective: Dark Sun
Tuesday, October 8, 2024
The Articles of Dragon: "Thieves' Cant: A Primer"
Monday, October 7, 2024
Brotherly Love Bulletin
From issue #66 of Dragon (October 1982) comes this full-page advertisement for Gangbusters. I haven't played the game in decades, but it was a favorite of mine for a couple of years after its original release back in 1982. Though I haven't (yet) done so, I occasionally get the hankering to pull it off the shelf and play it again. It's a fun little RPG with a lot to recommend it.
800-lb. Gorilla
As commenter Rick noted the other day, that's the power of branding. By getting to publication first and by having a title that's both evocative and easy to say, Dungeons & Dragons has a number of advantages that make it uniquely well placed to be the leader of the pack. I remember some years ago, back when Hasbro first bought Wizards of the Coast, reading an article in some business magazine that the name Dungeons & Dragons was one of best known in the world, alongside things like Coca-Cola and Kleenex. While most people had no real sense of what D&D actually was – most, I think, believed it to be some kind of video game – they nevertheless had at least heard of D&D, something that could not be said about any other RPG, no matter how successful or celebrated it was within the hobby.
Being the most well-known is not, of course, an indication of quality, a point frequently made by partisans of different, less-known brands, both within and without our hobby. Anyone who prefers Pepsi to Coke or Burger King to McDonald's, to cite just two rather prosaic examples, probably feels this way. Believe me, I'm sympathetic to this point of view. As a fan of Traveller, for example, I wish the game were better known, appreciated, and played than it is at present, but, as the old saying goes, if wishes were credits, beggars wouldn't need to travel by low passage. I make this joke to illustrate my point about just how obscure RPGs other than D&D are, even within the hobby. How many of you reading this post knew what I was talking about? (There's no need to answer that.)
I love lots of roleplaying games. Last year, I did a two-part post about my ten favorites – and I have many more besides. But I know only too well that, if I were to write lots of posts to discussing, say, Pendragon or Gamma World, they'd be among my least read posts and certainly the least commented upon. As you all know, I've been refereeing an Empire of the Petal Throne campaign for the last nine and a half years and, despite that, my posts about that campaign and its setting of Tékumel don't receive a lot of attention or comment. Don't misunderstand me: I completely understand why that is the case. Neither Empire of the Petal Throne nor Tékumel are widely known even within the hobby, so why would I expect posts about them to generate much attention?
And that's really my point. I write so much about Dungeons & Dragons and its history here, because D&D is the single most widely known and played roleplaying game, even in 2024. Those of us who enjoy more than just D&D are very apt to claim that we're presently living in a Golden Age of Roleplaying, with more games and more variety of games than ever before. That might well be true by some metrics, but, on one significant metric – popularity – nothing much has changed. Dungeons & Dragons remains the game most people are playing and that most people, even those of you reading this blog, are interested in reading about. It's not for nothing that I use a version of Trampier's iconic demon idol in my masthead.
What does this all mean? Honestly, I'm not sure. Though it's not my favorite RPG, I still very much like D&D, so I don't think there's any chance I'll stop writing posts about the game and its history. However, my frustration with the fact that it's those posts, with a few exceptions, that tend to generate the most interest is very real. I don't like writing stuff that garners little or no interest. Who, after all, likes to feel as if he's shouting into the void? At the same time, I cannot expect most readers are going to be familiar with all the same obscure things that I am or that they'll share my interest in the same. To some extent, if one is going to write for public consumption, one must write what will attract the most readers and, in my case, that means posts about Dungeons & Dragons.
C'est la vie.
Friday, October 4, 2024
What's a Campaign? (Part II)
The introduction to Shadows of Yog-Sothoth includes a "How to Use This Book" section that provides some insight into this matter, though, as we'll see, there are still complexities to be explored.
Shadows of Yog-Sothoth is divided into two main sections. The first part is a lengthy campaign of seven scenarios, from which the entire book takes its name. The second part is much shorter, and is a pair of bonus scenarios; unrelated to the first part, or to each other.
The first part of the book is meant to be played as a fully campaign, and those scenarios should be followed in the order that they are laid out in this book ...
As with The Traveller Adventure, we say a campaign as being defined as a collection of linked scenarios built around a common focus, in this case defeating the plans of "a sinister occult organization, led by the evil Lords of the Silver Twilight," as the introduction goes on to explain.
Speaking of the introduction, a later paragraph sheds some further light on the meaning of a campaign. After discussing how the campaign is structured – seven scenarios, each of which leads into the next one – it goes on to say:
If your particular mode of play is not suited to a series of linked adventures, such as this book consists of, the individual scenarios may certainly be played by themselves.
This sentence suggests that Call of Cthulhu has two "modes" of play: one based around individual scenarios and one based around "a series of linked adventures," which is to say, a campaign. Interestingly, the back cover of Shadows of Yog-Sothoth describes itself as a "scenario book for the CALL OF CTHULHU role-playing game. SHADOWS OF YOG-SOTHOTH is a seven-chapter tale of horror and suspense." Here, each integral scenario of the campaign is likened to a chapter, the whole – the campaign itself – being called a "tale of horror and suspense."
Chapter VII of the second edition of Call of Cthulhu bears the title "How to Play the Game." Here, we once again see that a "campaign" is defined as being made of several scenarios that
ought to be arranged like the branches of a tree. The players start out fooling around with the very tips and edges of the mythos, where there are dozens of myths, legends, clues, and adventures. As they gain knowledge and experience, the investigators will work their way inwards, where there are fewer happenings, of greater importance. At the center of the mythos reside the hideous Elder Gods in all their reality. The final goal of play may well be to save this planet and force the retreat of Cthulhu and other space beings. Becoming powerful to do that may take years.
Words like "scenarios," "adventures" and even "play" are used without precision. Are they all the same thing or are there fine distinctions between them? Where does a campaign fit into all this? That's why I find myself wondering whether anyone at Chaosium at the time had a clear sense of it themselves or whether we, in the present, are expecting a degree of clarity that no one at the time needed, let alone expected. Still, it's yet more grist for the mill as I delve more deeply into campaigns, their meaning, and how they were run during the first decade of the hobby.
Pretenders to the Throne
Like most people involved in the hobby of roleplaying, Dungeons & Dragons was the first RPG I ever played. Furthermore, it's probably the RPG I've played the most over the decades, even though it's not my favorite. I do like it and would even go so far as to say that most versions of it are fun to play. This isn't a controversial opinion. Indeed, if history is any guide, most roleplayers feel similarly, because some version of Dungeons & Dragons has been the most popular, most played, and most profitable roleplaying game pretty much continuously since 1974.
I say "pretty much," because there have been times and places when this was not case, but most of these instances have been unusual in one way or another. I was thinking about this topic for reasons I'll explain in an upcoming post, but my present point is that, with only a handful of exceptions, D&D has always been the King of Roleplaying Games. That was true in 1974 and it's still true in 2024. That's a truth that a lot of partisans of other RPGs don't like to hear. While I'm sympathetic to their feelings, I'm not going to pretend as if it's not the case that D&D's reign has not been a largely secure one.
There I go again with my quibbling adverbs – largely. I'm old enough to remember several moments in time when it seemed as if the fortunes of Dungeons & Dragons were on the downswing and another roleplaying game was on the ascent. Whether that was actually the case is another matter. For now, though, I'd simply like to focus on three occasions when it seemed to me – perhaps mistakenly – as if D&D was in danger of being pushed aside by a competitor.
The first time was in the mid-80s, once I had become a subscriber to White Dwarf. One of the things I very quickly noticed was that the magazine frequently carried content for Chaosium's RuneQuest, then in its second edition. This was in stark contrast to Dragon magazine, the gaming periodical with which I was most familiar, which scarcely ever included articles, let alone adventures, for RQ. At that time, AD&D was in its late 1e doldrums, so I took the appearance of so much RuneQuest material in White Dwarf as evidence that its star was on the rise. I would eventually learn that this was mostly a British phenomenon, where RQ's popularity met or even exceeded that of D&D. So far as I know, this never extended to North America, but I still started contemplating the possibility that Dungeons & Dragons might one day be toppled from its position as King of the Hill.Thursday, October 3, 2024
What's a Campaign?
Before returning to Boot Hill and its section on campaigns, I wanted to share a few paragraphs from The Traveller Adventure that seem relevant to this larger discussion. At the very start of the book, in its introduction, we find this:
The Traveller Adventure is a vehicle to transport you and your friends on a journey into the far future. Together as Traveller players you will experience a small part of the vast, star-sprawling Imperium, its societies, cultures, and technology. Contained in these pages is an intricate and varied Traveller campaign [italics mine], a complete set of adventures which provides a slowly unfolding drama to explore, investigate, and conquer.
Take note of the use of the word "campaign" above, which is taken as a synonym for "a complete set of adventures."
This adventure is intended for use by a group of from 3 to 8 players. Fewer than three players will probably not provide enough variety and group interaction to make the game as much fun as it should be. More than eight players will present the referee with problems in control and may make it difficult for all players to participate fully. It is not necessary for all players to show up at every game session. Those who are absent will miss some of the fun, but the other players can be depended upon to manage the characters belonging to anyone not there for the evening.
Whereas the first paragraph used "campaign" as a synonym for a "set of adventures," the second one talks about "this adventure" in the singular. This makes me wonder if perhaps the author(s) were, either intentionally or unintentionally, conflating the words "adventure(s)," "campaign," and even "session." The other notable thing here is that the text suggests The Traveller Adventure is best played with no fewer than three players and no more than eight. This is, more or less, in keeping with Book 1 of the original 1977 edition that suggests that optimum "game size" is between three and ten players.
This campaign can span a great amount of time. Dedication and nightly Traveller sessions can probably finish the events in this book off in a little more than week, but a better course is to spend the time to enjoy the events and their ramifications. One of the enjoyable parts of Traveller is thinking about what is going on and then making plans in the intervals between game sessions. This campaign can be played in about six weeks of conveniently space sessions. Take the time to enjoy it.
Once again, we see the word "campaign" being used to describe the contents of The Traveller Adventure. Why? Book 1 describes a Traveller campaign thusly:
While the scenario is like a science fiction novel, the campaign is like a continuing S-F series, as the same characters continue to act together through a variety of situations.
Using this definition, The Traveller Adventure could indeed be called a campaign, but I must confess I find this usage idiosyncratic. However, as I've noted before, the meaning of "campaign" shifted over time and probably continues to do so. The Traveller Adventure appeared in 1983, nearly a decade after the inauguration of the hobby, so it's perhaps not that surprising that we might see such a shift in its text. Even so, I find myself wondering if there's more going on here.