Level Titles: Fighters and Thieves

Level titles first appeared in original (1974) Dungeons & Dragons, seemingly inspired by the various types of figures available in the "Fantasy Supplement" to Chainmail (1971), about which I may make a separate post later. These titles, in themselves, have no mechanical purpose whatsoever, serving solely as a verbal way to distinguish between two characters of the same class but of different levels. Consequently, they disappeared entirely from AD&D's Second Edition (1989), but were present in all editions of D&D until the Rules Cyclopedia (1991), when they disappeared (though they did reappear in the brief and often forgotten The Classic Dungeons & Dragons Game in 1994).

Since I've lately become very interested in the degree of continuity between the various editions of D&D, I thought looking at the level titles of the various classes might make for an interesting series of posts. To start, let's look at fighters (fighting men) and thieves. Here's the level title chart for the former from Volume 1 of OD&D:

 In the AD&D Players Handbook (1978), the list is identical.

However, in the 1981 David Cook/Stephen Marsh-edited Expert Rules, we get this list of level titles, which is only nearly identical. The 3rd-level title, Swordsman, becomes Swordmaster, probably for the same reason the 9th-level title, Lord, gains the parenthetical option of Lady. All later editions of D&D (1983, 1991, 1994) use these same level titles.

Thieves first appear in Supplement I to OD&D (1975) and use the following level titles:

In the AD&D Players Handbook, we get a slightly different list for thieves. Most of the titles are the same, but the levels they're associated with are swapped. We also get a couple of new titles, like Filcher at 6th level and Magsman at 8th level, because Gygax loved obscure and archaic words.

The D&D Expert Set much more closely follows the Supplement I level titles than does AD&D, replacing only Master Pilferer at 8th level with Thief instead (and lowering the level at which Master Thief becomes available).

Of the two character classes examined today, it's the thief that shows the most changes in its level titles between their first appearance in Greyhawk and later versions, though, even there, the changes are small. Meanwhile, the fighter changes barely at all. The same cannot be said of clerics and magic-users, as we'll see in the next post in this series.

Polyhedron: Issue #30

With issue #30 of Polyhedron (July 1986), we reach the final issue I ever owned or read. My subscription ended that summer and, with my final year of high school approaching, I was so preoccupied with other matters that I elected not to continue reading. To be fair, I let my subscription to Dragon lapse around the same time, but I'd still pick up stray copies of the magazine to keep abreast of the latest news about D&D and other RPGs. Consequently, this will be last post in which I do a recap of Polyhedron's contents. I'll do a summation of my feelings about the RPGA newszine next week before moving on to a new regular feature the following week.

As has often been the case, this month's cover is drawn by Roger Raupp. It depicts the six characters from Christopher S. Jones's "Nienna & Friends," the first installment in "The New Rogues Gallery," which is "a continuing feature ... through which members may share their most interesting characters and NPCs." In truth, this is just an outgrowth of the "Encounters" column that began all the way back in issue #8, which had already morphed into something akin to this. In any case, "Nienna & Friends" presents write-ups (including AD&D stats) for the half-Drow fighter/magic-user Nienna, her human cleric mother, Rhodara Larith, and their protector, the Grey Elf magic-user Zered Camaron. Zered's son, Elerion, along with Nienna's evil Drow father, Tray-Dor, and his drider companion, Day-Ron, complete the group. In general, I like articles like this, if only because they give me some sense of what happens in other people's campaigns. I know "let me tell you about my character" is supposed to be cringeworthy, but I genuinely do enjoy this sort of thing (and occasionally indulge in it myself).

"In Search of the 12th Level Mage" by Roger E. Moore is a good article on the much-vexed question of demographics in Dungeons & Dragons. Moore takes a look at the population information provided in the revised World of Greyhawk boxed set and plugs it into the information found in the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide regarding the makeup of NPC adventuring parties to arrive at a possible answer. His conclusion is that high level characters of any class are quite rare, especially so for magic-users, who number only about 200 out of every 1000 people (who are themselves only one-tenth of every 10,000 people). Of those 200, only 1 is 8th-level, meaning that the mage of the title would be a special NPC created and placed by the referee. Of course, the question of how many NPCs have classes/levels is itself an interesting one without a definitive answer. Even so, speculations like this are fun and an important part of worldbuilding in my opinion.

Brian Leikam's "In Defense of the Lowly Fighter" is, as its title suggests, a look at the fighter class in Dungeons & Dragons and how to make it more appealing to players. I wrote a post about this article three and a half years ago, so I won't say much more here. However, I largely agree with Leikam that fighters should be more common and better appreciated in D&D, especially nowadays, where the human fighter has more or less become synonymous with "boring." 

"Ravager" is the first part of an AD&D adventure by Jeff Grubb. Though it doesn't mention it anywhere, I assume this was a RPGA tournament scenario at some point, since most of the adventures that appear in Polyhedron began life that way. Its premise is that a bandit-king, the eponymous Ravager, has arisen and, thanks to ancient magic, has made himself effectively immortal. The goal of the characters is to raid a tomb in the Grey Desert that might contain information on how to reverse this magic and render the Ravager mortal again. The tomb is small and filled with traps, tricks, and puzzles, in addition to monsters. I expect it would be a challenge to navigate it successfully. Included with the adventure are six pregenerated PCs whose names could well be Asterix characters: Necromantix, Logistix, Goldbrix, etc.

"The Treasure Chest" returns in limited form, offering just back issues of Polyhedron and four RPGA adventures written by Frank Mentzer, like To the Aid of Falx. There's also a similarly abbreviated "Fletcher's Corner" by Michael Przytarski, in which he muses about crossbreeds among the various D&D races, another much-vexed topic in gaming circles. Przytarski offers no new insights or answers here. Slightly more useful is Jeffrey A, Martin's "Beware the New Golems," which offers up four new golem types: copper, oak, brass, and shadow. The last one is notable, because it's a golem that can only be made by illusionists, something you don't see very often in AD&D, where the illusionist was, in my opinion, and underused and under-appreciated class.

Preston Shah's "Little Miss Sure Shot" was unexpected. It's not just a Boot Hill article, but a history lesson as well, providing historical details and game information on using Annie Oakley in your games. I like articles of this sort, but then I'm also a fan of historical gaming, so I'm probably not a good gauge of how well received articles like this would have been received. "New and Old" by James M. Ward is a one-page preview of some aspects of the upcoming new (third) edition of Gamma World. He also reiterates the oft-repeated promise that TSR planned to do a new edition of Metamorphosis Alpha to tie into it as well. That didn't happen, of course, but I don't doubt that it was planned. 

"Dispel Confusion" is reduced to one page and tackles only AD&D questions, nearly all of which are highly technical in nature. With hindsight, this is one of those aspects of the TSR era of D&D that seems baffling. At the time, though, a fair number of gamers, myself included, really did care about "official" answers to rules questions. Finally, there's Errol Farstad's review of Timemaster, which he thought had "potential to be very enjoyable," even though it still had a few "rough spots." That's a fair assessment, I think.

And that's all folks – the end of my re-reads of Polyhedron. Next week, as I stated at the beginning of this post, I'll share some final thoughts about the more than 20 issues I read during my time as a subscriber. There's frankly a lot to say on the subject and I think it's deserving of its own post.

Retrospective: The Complete Fighter's Handbook

AD&D 2nd Edition catches a lot of flak among old schoolers and I completely understand why that is. Nevertheless, as I've stated before, I don't think it's nearly as bad as its somewhat exaggerated reputation would suggest. I played 2e happily for many years and have fond memories of the adventures and campaigns in which I participated. For that matter, I probably wouldn't hesitate to play 2e again if someone I knew were starting up a new campaign using those rules. In short, I think 2nd Edition is just fine, even if it's not my preferred version of Dungeons & Dragons.

That's not to say 2e is not without problems – or, at least, that the larger 2e game line is not without problems and big ones at that. One of the biggest can be seen in its inordinate fondness for bloated (and frequently mechanically dubious) supplements, like 1989's The Complete Fighter's Handbook by Aaron Allston. This was the book that launched a thousand supplements, inaugurating not just the "PHBR" series, which would eventually include fifteen different volumes, but also the "DMGR" (9 volumes) and the "HR" (7 volumes) series as well. These supplements were of varying quality and entirely optional, but, as is so often the case, their mere existence placed a lot of pressure on referees to allow their use in their campaigns, often with disastrous results.

At 124 pages in length, The Complete Fighter's Handbook is an eclectic mix of new and optional rules for use by players of the fighter class and by Dungeon Masters wishing to include additional levels of details with regards to armor, weapons, combat, and related topics. In principle, it's not a bad idea for a supplement, akin in some respects to Traveller's Mercenary, both in terms of its content and the way that its publication changed the game forever. Once The Complete Fighter's Handbook was published, it was inevitable that there'd eventually be Complete Handbooks for every class and race in the game, each one adding further complexity and ever greater demands on the referee.

The book begins with a lengthy, eight-page treatment of armor and weapon smithing in the context of 2e's non-weapon proficiency system. On the one hand, that's a genuinely useful and even interesting subject for players and referees who want that level of detail in their campaign. On the other, it's also a lot of new rules material that most players and referees simply won't want. Ultimately, that's the paradox of this book: there's some good stuff in here, but I'm not sure the juice is worth the squeeze. It's also, as I've said, the first step on the supplement treadmill that would come to characterize AD&D 2nd Edition – not to mention undermining the edition's very raison d'être of making AD&D clearer, simpler, and more accessible. Alas, the need to keep selling books trumps all.

Next up are 24 pages devoted to 14 different "kits," a concept first introduced in Time of the Dragon, along with guidelines for modifying the kits or creating one's own. Unlike the kits from Time of Dragon, those presented here are mostly rather "generic" – gladiator, peasant hero, pirate, etc. – rather than being immersed in a specific cultural or social context. This is the same problem that would later befall 3e's prestige classes and probably for the same reason: it's harder to sell game material that is tied to a specific setting than it is to sell material usable by anyone who pays their $15. 

Then there's a similarly long section devoted to "roleplaying" that is a mixture of the banal ("warrior personalities"), the basic (campaign structure), and the half-interesting ("one-warrior type campaigns"). In many ways, this section exemplifies the Complete Handbook series as a whole: an overwritten mix of good and bad, with much of it unnecessary. The remaining half of the book is like this, too – lots of rules options relating to weapon proficiencies, combat, and equipment, mixed up with occasional bits of advice regarding their implementation. There's simply so much of it that I shudder at the thought of any referee making use of more than just a tiny percentage, because I imagine the effects of using more than that in a campaign would be confusion at best and catastrophe at worst.

That, ultimately, is my primary criticism of The Complete Fighter's Handbook and the books it inspired: it's too much and to little good end. There are a few good ideas scattered throughout but finding them is like looking for a diamond among a mountain of coal. Worse, as I've said, is the way that this book laid the groundwork for a new philosophy not just of play but of publishing that would hobble AD&D 2nd Edition until its – and TSR's – demise. I genuinely wish that weren't the case, because I think there's the germ of a good idea behind this book, but it's buried under so much dross that I find it hard to render a positive judgment in the end – a pity!

Polyhedron: Issue #17

Issue #17 of Polyhedron (May 1984) is immediately notable for its cover, which features an uncredited 19th century engraving rather than an illustration by one of TSR's staff artists. Nevertheless, the engraving is being used to illustrate one of this issue's articles, a long "Encounters" piece by Kim Eastland about which I'll speak shortly. Because of hos different this cover looks compared to its predecessors, it's one that I remember well, even if I didn't recall anything about the article to which it's connected.

The issue kicks off with a long letter in which a reader comments that he is "not a member of the RPGA Network in order to get a second helping of articles every month. DRAGON does a good job monthly." Instead, the reader wants to hear the opinions and ideas of RPGA members rather than "professional writers." It's a fair criticism, I think, though, as I noted last week, it's not one I shared. Editor Mary Kirchoff explains that the preponderance of articles by TSR staff members is due to a lack of submissions by RPGA members. Reading this now, I must admit to some surprise at this. I would have imagined that members would have jumped at the chance of writing for Polyhedron, but apparently not. (Of course, given that I never submitted anything during the time I was a subscriber means that I have no room to criticize.)

Kim Eastland's "Encounters" concerns a ruined temple that the characters came across while traveling elsewhere. Outside the ruin is the servant of an adventurer whose employer left him outside while he ventured within to investigate. That was more than a day ago and the adventurer has not returned since. What then follows is a three-page description of the temple, its contents, and denizens, accompanied by illustrations that (mostly) are in the same style as the cover. Though lacking a map, the temple is quite fascinating, since it includes a number of tricks and traps within it, as well as some valuable treasure. I think it'd make an intriguing side encounter for an ongoing campaign.

The Knights of Genetic Purity are James M. Ward's "Cryptic Alliance of the Bi-Month" for use with Gamma World. Pure strain human supremacists, the Knights fall squarely on the side of villains, at least in most of the GW campaigns with which I am familiar. The article thus devotes most of its two pages to details of the alliance's personnel and weaponry, so as to aid the referee in using them as adversaries. We also get a couple of legends associated with the cryptic alliance, such as "Pul Banyon," a seven foot-tall mutant slayer and a king named "Art" who was betrayed by his "human-looking mutant" wife. I remember liking this article more than is probably deserved upon re-reading it. I don't think it's bad so much as uninspired, which is a shame, because I think the Knights of Genetic Purity make great adversaries for a Gamma World campaign.

"Variants, House Rules, and Hybrids" by Roger E. Moore, on the other hand, is a terrific article. Over the course of three pages, Moore looks at the merits and flaws of introducing variant rules into your ongoing RPG campaign, as well as presenting examples of such variants (critical hits, new classes, etc.). What's most remarkable about this piece is not Moore's advice, which is indeed good, but the fact that it appears in the pages of Polyhedron at all. Moore acknowledges, at the start of his article, that TSR's policy is that "it's better to game with the rules as they are," but he nevertheless feels that "everyone has different ideas on what makes a game fun." From the vantage point of 2024, this might seem non-controversial, but, at the time, for people like myself, who hung on every word that proceeded from the mouth of Gygax, it was a Very Big Deal and I am grateful for it.

"The Fighter" by James M. Ward is the start of a new feature, intended to present an "archetypical [sic]" example of a Dungeons & Dragons character class "to give a general idea of what characteristics and/or quirks a superior, balanced character in a particular character class would have." Ward presents Ian McPherson as his example of the archetypal fighter, detailing his personality, skills, equipment, and holdings. It's notable that the article is light on game mechanics, which surprised me. I would have thought we'd at least get game statistics for Ian, but we do not. Instead, the following article, "Two New NPCs," presents two brief write-ups of unique fighters, one a dwarf and one a half-orc, written by Ward and Roger E. Moore respectively. These write-ups do include stats and are thus more immediately usable.

"Disguised Weapons" by Nicholas Moschovakis presents six hidden weapons for use with Top Secret. This is a no-nonsense "meat and potatoes" gaming article of the sort that used to fill gaming magazines at the time. Likewise, Kim Mohan's "Wishes Have Their Limits" also belongs to a hoary gaming magazine genre, namely, articles about how to constrain and otherwise rein in the power of magic wishes in D&D. Mohan attempts to present, over the course of three pages, a series four "laws" for adjudicating wishes. His laws are all fine, if you feel the need for such things, but, these days, I'm generally quite lenient with wishes and reality warping magics, because I see in them the opportunity to inject a little chaos into the status quo of a campaign. Maybe I'm weird.

"DM Talk" by Carl Smith looks at the various approaches to refereeing D&D, offering thoughtful insights and advice. Though obviously geared more toward novice DMs, I think he still says things of potential interest to more experienced ones. In particular, I like his division of RPG players into one of three "levels," each of growing sophistication, with Level 1 being "roll playing" and Level 3 being a high degree of immersion. He then tailors his advice for the referee based on the current level of the campaign and the needs of its players. It's not a world changing article, but it's solid and looks at the subject from a slightly different perspective, which I appreciate.

"Dispel Confusion" presents the usual assortment of questions and answers related to TSR's various RPGs. The most notable questions this time around are one concerning the fact that the monster Zargon from The Lost City is stated to be "no god" and yet his clerics have spells. How is this possible? According to the answer, "there is in fact a greater evil force behind Zargon" and it is this mysterious being who is granting spells to his cleric. I have to admit that's quite intriguing! Another question concerns whether there are female dwarves, which the questioner apparently doubted. Obviously, the answer is in the affirmative. Did anyone seriously doubt this?

Issue #17 also includes another mini-module, "The Incants of Ishcabeble," by Bob Blake. It picks up from the mini-module included in the last issue and takes the characters to the abandoned tower of the ancient wizard, Ishcabeble. I have an affection for abandoned towers of all sorts, so I'm naturally inclined to like this one, too, which features a good mix of puzzles, tricks, traps, and combat. 

The transformation of Polyhedron continues, though, as I theorized previously, not all of its readers are entirely happy with its new direction as Dragon Jr. Of course, Polyhedron was, to my recollection, always in a state of flux, never quite knowing its niche within the larger constellation of TSR gaming periodicals. As a result, each issue was, to some degree, an experiment to determine what worked and what didn't. This one is no different in this regard and, as we shall see in weeks to come, quite a lot didn't work, hence the regular need to launch new columns and features that soon disappear, only to be replaced by others. 

Professor Barker's Solution

 As everyone reading this no doubt knows, Empire of the Petal Throne is one of the oldest roleplaying games in existence, appearing about a year and half after the publication of OD&D in 1974. Perhaps unsurprisingly, EPT draws heavily on the rules of Dungeons & Dragons, to the point where one might not unreasonably call it a variant. There are differences, however, some of which bear further examination, particularly in light of OD&D's perceived mechanical shortcomings.

A good case in point is EPT's treatment of the warrior class, which is obviously modeled on OD&D's fighting man. As yesterday's post makes clear, there's long been the sense that the fighting man (and his descendants) is underpowered when it comes to damage dealing. Various solutions have been proposed over the years, from AD&D's extra attacks against opponents of less than one hit die to 3e's combat feats, and all have merit. In Empire of the Petal Throne, Professor Barker offers his own solution, one that seems to draw, at least in part, from the OD&D FAQ printed in the Summer 1975 issue of The Strategic Review (itself a worthy topic for discussion).

In section 730 of EPT, this appears:

As you can see, as warriors progress in level, they deal greater damage against opponents of lower hit dice than themselves. This begins at Level IV, when warriors rolls twice damage dice against opponents of one hit die. As the warriors gains additional levels, these bonus damage dice not only increase but expand to include ever more powerful opponents. Thus, a Level VI warrior – of which there is one in my ongoing House of Worms campaign – deals three damage dice against one hit die opponents, as well as two dice against 1+1, 2, and 3 hit dice opponents. From experience, I can tell you that's not insignificant and has played a key role in many combats. 

However, Professor Barker doesn't end there. He also includes a "cleave" rule (or perhaps it's an evolution of Dave Arneson's famous "chop 'til you drop" rule), in which damage above that which successfully killed an opponent "spills over" to other opponents of similar sort in range. Again, I've used this rule in play over the course of the last five and a half years and it's been, if not exactly a game changer, a welcome boost to the warrior's effectiveness. Mind you, the lower overall hit point totals of Empire of the Petal Throne – in keeping with pre-Supplement I OD&D – play a role too, making the warrior significantly more durable than either the priest or the magic-user.

Section 730 includes another wrinkle, however, namely:

Thus, both priests and magic-users benefit from the additional damage dice, just not at the same rate as warriors. Given that those two classes also have poorer combat probabilities – identical to their counterparts in OD&D – their likelihood of landing any blow is less than that of a warrior. Even so, they do deal greater damage in combat as they gain levels, just as a warrior does, which somewhat undermines the warrior's battle prowess. I have been tempted to remove this rule in my own campaign, but it's come up so rarely that it hasn't been an issue (the priest and magic-user characters rarely participate in melee, preferring to hang back and employ spells or magic items safely from a distance instead).

Notice, too, that monsters use the bonus damage dice and do so as if they were warriors. This had a greater impact in the early days of the campaign, when the characters were much more likely to encounter creatures of much higher hit dice than themselves (such as the Nshé the ran into while in Salarvyá). Now, with most of the characters fifth or sixth level, it's a rarer occurrence, though still possible, as Tékumel is home to a great many nasty, high hit dice creatures, some of which can be found on the Achgé Peninsula they currently call home. 

The Lowly Fighter

When it comes to delving into history – any history, not just the history of RPGs – I tend to favor documents over memories, especially my own memories. Memories, after all, are tricky things, especially the memories of middle aged and older people. More times than I care to admit, I was sure I remembered something that was later proven, through documentary evidence, to be untrue or at least misconstrued. Documents don't tell the whole story, of course; divorced from context, they can be just as prone to being misconstrued as memories (and that's not even taking into account deliberately false documents). Nevertheless, I tend to think we're on more solid ground in examining history when we have physical evidence, which is why I have such respect for the work of people like Jon Peterson, whose careful examination of early RPG documents have revealed a great deal about the history of the hobby.

To that end, one of current activities is re-reading many of the RPG periodicals, both professional and amateur, I still have from the '70s and '80s. Though TSR's Dragon is quite useful in this regard, I'm finding that the Polyhedron is sometimes much more intriguing. Whereas the articles in Dragon tended to be both more polished and "theoretical," those in Polyhedron were (generally) rougher and more focused on "practical" considerations. In the process of re-reading those issues of Polyhedron I still have, I've come across a number of articles that seem to have arisen out of a referee's attempts to deal with some problem or other in his campaign.

A good example of what I'm talking about is Brian Leikam's "In Defense of the Lowly Fighter," which appears in issue #30 of Polyhedron (July 1986). Leikam was a RPGA tournament winner, as well as a member of the US Air Force, who ran a Dungeons & Dragons campaign at Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri (or so says his author bio). It's also noted that he was "pleased with the convenience and playability" of the D&D (as opposed to AD&D) system. The article attempts to grapple with the fact that "no one seems to play fighters anymore" and that D&D campaigns are "overrun with 'rare' demihumans and spellcasters." To that end, Leikam proposes some solutions that have worked for him in his own D&D campaign.

I genuinely enjoy articles of this sort, both for what they tell us about the perception of supposed "problems" in the rules of Dungeons & Dragons and how individual referees dealt with them in their own campaigns. This is the kind of documentary evidence of which I want to see more, if only because it provides a useful counterpoint to the frequent cries of "I never saw that back in the day" or "We did it this way." Again, I don't want to discount memories entirely, but, speaking for myself, my own memories are so often hazy (or rose colored) that I think it's vital to buttress one's memories with additional testimony.

Leikam's assertion that fighters were often rare is, I think, right. That's certainly my recollection, particularly in AD&D, where rangers and paladins were much more commonplace, despite the supposed ability score restrictions. His comments about the prevalence of demihumans likewise comport with my experiences, though I mostly played AD&D rather than D&D. Regardless, Leikam proposes three solutions, only two of which interest me at the moment. Here's one of them:

This solution, as such, doesn't concern me so much as his claim that D&D and AD&D "are generally not compatible." I'm somewhat baffled by this statement. What does he mean by "not compatible?" In the context of demihumans, there might be some truth to it, inasmuch as D&D uses race-as-class and AD&D does not. On the other hand, nearly despite Gygax's regular assertions that the two games were completely different and never, ever, ever to be mixed, they not only were mixed but done so often by nearly everyone who played the games during this era – or so my memories tell me. It's a very peculiar thing to say and wonder what he meant by it.

The other suggestion that interests me is the following one:

This solution mentions that "demi-humans are supposed to be the minority in most worlds." I firmly agree that D&D (and AD&D) imply and sometimes outright state that this is supposed to be the case, but my memories tell me that very few people ever adhered to it. I certainly would have preferred it to be the case, but I think demihumans – dwarves and elves in particular – were simply too popular among players to make this work. In my recent OD&D campaigns, I set a strict limit of no more than a single instance of a demihuman race among the player characters, such that the PC elf was the elf in the campaign rather than being one of several. Most NPCs had never seen an elf before and, to hit that home, I was extremely stingy on including demihuman NPCs as well. Unlike Leikam, my concern had little to do with rules and more to do with tone: I prefer that most characters are human, in keeping with the pulp fantasy sensibilities I prefer.

I am deeply interested in how people actually played Dungeons & Dragons and other RPGs in the first decade of the hobby's existence, in particular the kinds of fantasy inspirations they drew upon and how those influences shaped the shared worlds they created. Equally interesting is the interplay between the "official" intent of TSR and the desires of those who picked up the game and made it their own. That's why I'm seeking out as many documents of that era as I can find. They not only make for some excellent reading, they shed light on these and related questions.

Red Morgan

In preparation for another post, I was looking through the 1981 D&D Basic Rules and, as is inevitable, lingered a moment on Jeff Dee's memorable illustration of Morgan Ironwolf.

They say familiarity breeds contempt, but, in this case, I think it breeds inattentiveness. Like most gamers of a certain age, I've seen this piece of artwork too many times to count. To employ an over-used word, it's one of the iconic pieces of Dungeons & Dragons art, right up there with Trampier's Players Handbook cover. And yet, for all that, it wasn't until just now that I noticed something, something others before me might have noticed, but, if so, I've never seen reference to it.

That's the cover of Marvel's Conan the Barbarian #24 (March 1973), which marks the second appearance of Red Sonja (the first being discussed here). Am I imagining things in seeing a resemblance? Here's another image of her, which I think gives a better sense of her full attire.

There are quite a number of similarities, wouldn't you say? Besides the form fitting chain shirt, there are the bare legs, the cavalier boots, and the scabbard hanging from her left hip. If we could see Morgan's right leg more clearly, we might be able to see if she, like Sonja, has any leg straps. If she did, I think that would come close to clinching my theory. 

But maybe I'm just seeing things. What do you think?

The Game You Think You Know

It's funny how often you can read a book and still overlook something that's stated very clearly and unambiguously. For example, a lot of players of OD&D fail to notice that the Dexterity bonus to Armor Class applies only to fighting men and to no other class. Of course, the same is true of the bonuses to hit and damage for high Strength. That's something I didn't realize until earlier today when I was re-reading my copy of Greyhawk and saw the following on page 7:

Strength also aids the fighting man in his ability to both score a hit upon an adversary and damage it. This strength must be raw. i.e. not altered by intelligence scores. On the other hand low strength will effect [sic] any character's fighting ability.

If I'd ever read those words before, I don't recall them. It's a perfect example of why it's so important to read OD&D with fresh eyes and to try to forget, to the extent that it's possible, what you think you know about the game based on what was done in later editions.

W is for Warrior Traditions

While, to the uninitiated, one fighting man appears little different than another, the fact of the matter is that, even within a single culture, there are usually multiple "warrior traditions," each reflective of a unique martial philosophy. Take, for example, the Thulians.

• Bear-shirts: The bear-shirts were an ancient warrior tradition among the Hyperborean peoples, with the Thulians being perhaps their greatest exemplars. Bear-shirts were frenzied warriors dedicated to the god Mavors. They clothed themselves in bear skins -- hence their name -- and eschewed any other form of protection, believing that Mavors protected them, in addition to granting them superhuman strength and ferocity in battle. The Thulian emperor maintained a company of these warriors as his personal guard and was often inducted their brotherhood. The tradition declined after the rise of the cult of Turms Termax, which viewed it as an unseemly vestige of the Empire's barbarian past. Since the fall of the Empire, the tradition has been revived, with the Despot of Adamas employing bear-shirts in imitation of the Thulian emperor -- a practice the city-state's neighbors consider ominous.
• Cataphracts: With the growth of the Thulian Empire came new warrior traditions, one of which was that of the cataphracts. Heavily armored, mounted soldiers, the cataphracts were the elite of the Empire's cavalry forces, striking terror into the hearts of enemies across the continent with their skill and tactics. Though the emperor wished to employ cataphracts more widely, the expense of both their training and their upkeep prevented this from becoming a reality. After the collapse of the Empire, the cataphract tradition survived, although it came to be even more strongly associated with elite soldiers, typically being reserved to those of high birth and/or material wealth. 

These are but two Thulian warrior traditions. Many others existed during the Empire, most of which survived its fall and continue to be practiced by fighting men of many regions. Likewise, cultures other than the Thulians have their own traditions, such as the two-weapon style favored in the West or the lightly-armored duelists of the South. And then there are non-humans like elves, dwarves, and goblins, all of whom have their own traditions as well. These and many other traditions ensure that there are as many different ways of fighting as there are fighting men. 

Strength is for Fighting Men

Reading the Original D&D Discussion forums this afternoon, I was reminded of a funny little bit from Greyhawk:

Strength also aids the fighting man in his ability to both score a hit upon an adversary and damage it. This strength must be raw, i.e. not altered by intelligence scores. On the other hand low strength will effect [sic] any character's fighting ability.

What this means is that the bonuses to hit and damage accrued for having a score of 13 or more apply only to fighting men, not other classes. (The same is true, incidentally, of the "dodge/parry" bonus from high Dexterity). However, the penalties to hit and damage for having a Strength score of 6 or less do apply to members of classes other than fighting men. The note about a score "not altered by intelligence" is a reference to the ability of fighting men to lower their Intelligence so as to raise their Strength on a two for one basis.

Going Lightly Armored

Supplement I introduces the idea of giving Fighting Men a bonus to their Armor Class based on their Dexterity. While I appreciate Gygax's feeling that he needed to "beef up" Fighters, I have been considering ways to make going lightly armored more attractive to all classes in OD&D. One option I am considering is allowing a Dexterity bonus to Armor Class only to characters wearing leather or cloth armor. Another option is allowing Fighting Men so armored -- and only Fighting Men -- the chance to deal double damage from behind if they surprise their opponent. This would give a tangible benefit to a "sneaky" Fighter but at the cost of heavier armor. I have discovered that, in OD&D, being able to wear chain and, especially, plate armor is a huge boon to survivability, so foregoing that in exchange for the chance to deal more damage under the right circumstances seems a fair trade.

Pity the Poor Fighting Man

"Mook" rules seem all the rage these days in roleplaying games. Even the new edition of D&D has them. I find it interesting that this is considered some sort of innovation, given that Dungeons & Dragons has had such rules since OD&D (stemming from Chainmail, I believe). Under OD&D, a fighting man can attack a number of times equal to his level when facing foes of 1 Hit Die or lower. This rule carried over into AD&D in modified form, with multiple attacks being allowed only against foes of less than 1 Hit Die. Philotomy suggests (correctly, I think) that the change occurred because a 1st-level OD&D fighting man has 1+1 (d6) Hit Dice, while a 1st-level AD&D fighter has 1 (d10) Hit Dice.

In any event, it was only with 3e that this rule went away. I think that's unfortunate, because not only did it speed up combat in certain situations, but it also added powerful distinctiveness to the fighter class. Only the fighter had this ability and it helped to solidify the notion that the fighter was, as his name suggested, the melee combatant par excellence. The loss of this ability isn't the end of the world, of course, at least not any more than Greyhawk's allowing Thieves to wield magic swords, previously the sole province of the fighting man. But it's another example of the slow whittling down of the class's uniqueness in favor of "sexier" options.

This is not a new phenomenon; I'm not laying the blame solely on newer games. The trend began right there in Supplement I, where the paladin is like a Fighter+ and the Thief stole the stealthy combatant role away and claimed it as its own. So, I'm actually sympathetic to the notion that the fighter needs some beefing up compared to other classes. At the same time, I'm well aware of the history behind the diminution of the fighting man and I see most modern attempts to address this as absurd hypercorrections. The fighter is a very primal, "pure" class and I'd like to see it stay that way. What it needs is not lots of mechanical bells and whistles or a role beyond its true raison d'être -- combat -- but a simple focus on making the class better a fighting, whether melee, missile, or stealth, than any other class.

This vision of the fighter was lost a long time ago, but that's no excuse not to return to it.