Interview: Rudy Kraft (Part I)

A long-standing and popular feature of this blog has been its interviews with designers, artists, and other luminaries of the hobby. From the beginning, I’ve believed it’s important to preserve and share their memories, insights, and experiences. They deserve to be heard not only by those of us who remember those now-ancient days firsthand, but also by later generations of roleplayers who might otherwise never encounter the stories behind the games they love.

That’s why I’m always especially pleased to speak with someone whose contributions were largely unknown to me in my own youth. Such conversations are reminders of just how many hands shaped this hobby in its formative years.

Rudy Kraft, who was involved in the early days of Chaosium – or The Chaosium, as it was then styled – very kindly agreed to answer a series of questions I put to him. As you’ll soon discover, he did so with remarkable generosity and detail. What follows is the first part of our conversation; the second will appear tomorrow.

1. How did you first become involved in the hobby of role playing?

I first got involved in gaming as a hobby because of my father. I was the oldest of five children—although we started gaming before the fifth child was born. We had family games of Clue and Monopoly—mostly Clue. At some point, my father bought me a Christmas present of the old Avalon Hill game Afrika Korps. He and I played that a lot often leaving it set up on the desk in my parents' bedroom. Because I liked this game, he bought additional Avalon Hill Games at least once a year until I went away to college in 1974.

Starting in elementary school, I became an enthusiastic reader of both science fiction and fantasy.  During this time, I read and reread The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings and Asimov’s Foundation series on multiple occasions.  

During high school, some friends and I created a space exploration war game where one person acted as the moderator and the other people explored a star map from different locations until they ran into each other and presumably fought a war.  

When I was at Cornell University, I read a lot of science fiction and touched the periphery of SF fandom. In one fanzine I read about this new game, Dungeons & Dragons. This almost certainly occurred in August 1975. The game sounded interesting to me, so I ordered a copy of it which I received in September. Once I looked at it, it became obvious to me that I did not know how to get started in the game and I set it aside.

In October, I overheard two people talking about playing Dungeons & Dragons. It turned out that there was a small group of people playing the game regularly in the same dormitory where I ate my meals.  They played every Saturday, so I first started playing Dungeons & Dragons on the second Saturday in October 1975. In fact, I had a 50th anniversary celebratory session in October this year where, for the first time in years, I played rather than DMed a game of Dungeon & Dragons.

Following that first session, I became very addicted to playing Dungeon & Dragons to the point where it significantly adversely affected my grades. During those years, I bought Empire of the Petal Throne and Metamorphosis Alpha, but I never persuaded anyone to play them instead of D&D. 

MA 50

Sometime this year – people better informed than I will know the precise date – James M. Ward's Metamorphosis Alpha will celebrate its 50th anniversary, the original having been released in 1976. Since I'm currently refereeing a campaign using these venerable science fiction RPG rules, I've been spending a lot of time online looking for additional resources to expand and enhance them. During one of these deep dives, I discovered a piece of news from March of last year that I somehow overlooked: 

Catalyst Roleplaying Games is proud to announce that we are working with Para Bellum Consulting for a special 50th anniversary release of Metamorphosis Alpha, an enduring classic of science-fiction roleplaying. This edition will honor the spirit and ingenuity of the original edition while offering exciting updates, including modernized gameplay and greatly expanded plot options.

The announcement doesn't give a release date or indeed provide much information of any sort beyond the usual marketing spiel one expects from such things. Even so, I'm intrigued. A few years ago, Goodman Games did, I think, a superb job of supporting the original Metamorphosis Alpha with new material, some of which I plan to incorporate into my campaign. From the sounds of it, Catalyst is creating an entirely new game, which isn't quite as exciting to me, but who knows? Maybe their "honor[ing] the spirit and ingenuity of the original edition" will be more than just empty words. 

If anyone knows any more about this new version of MA, please let me know in the comments. 

Initial Thoughts on Combat in Metamorphosis Alpha

Three sessions into my new Metamorphosis Alpha campaign – which I've dubbed "Habitat" – my players and I have now had the chance to use the game's combat system several times, most recently when their characters encountered some hostile wolfoids inside the Environmental Control Center of Habitat Level 2 of the starship Warden. My initial instincts about the game have thus far been proven correct. Though published two years after OD&D, MA is still a very early game design, filled with a lot of rough edges, infelicities, and general wonkiness. This is especially the case with the combat.

On the surface, combat in Metamorphosis Alpha isn't that much different from combat in OD&D. Players roll 1d20, with the aim of rolling equal to or higher than a target number. This roll is modified by certain factors, like a high Strength score or mutations. Weapons in MA each have a weapon class, ranging from 1 for bows and blowguns to 8 for protein disruptor pistols. In general, the higher the weapon class, the lower the target number needed versus an opponent's armor class (also rated from 1 to 8). 

There are some wrinkles in this, though, since weapon class is something of a stand-in for the weapon versus AC tables of Chainmail, Greyhawk, and AD&D. Some weapons are better against lower armor classes than they are against higher ones, for example, along with other peculiarities, like the metal disruptor pistol having no effect against armor classes above 3. Longtime players of Gamma World will, of course, recognize this system, since that descendant of Metamorphosis Alpha uses a similar system.

Damage varies by weapon type, as in Supplement I to OD&D. Each weapon's damage also varies by target type, with "humanoid beings," "mutated creatures," and "true humans" each being a separate category. It's unclear from the text whether mutated animals that have humanoid shapes count as a  the first or second category. When confronted with this on the fly, I elected to treat mutant animals as the middle category, but now I am second guessing myself, since it often means that mutant animals take less damage from common weapons like swords than do their mutant human counterparts. 

For reasons unknown to me, the game includes a second system for resolving bow combat – just bow combat – that seems to be derived from Chainmail. Instead of the difficulty to hit being based on armor class, it's based on distance. Furthermore, 2d6 are rolled against a target number rather than 1d20. When we first noticed that there were two systems for bow combat, I offered using the alternative one as an option, but none of the players were in favor of that, so we use the standard d20 system for all combat.

The possibility of surprise is handled much as in OD&D, with a d6 roll. Initiative, however, is determined by Dexterity score, with higher scores acting before lower ones. Ties are resolved with a die roll. There's a suggestion, never fully articulated, that, if a character or creature has a Dexterity score of twice that of his opponent, he can attack twice against that target. This hasn't come up in play as of yet, so I'm not certain whether I'll adopt the rule or not.

Character hit points are determined by a roll of 1d6 per point of Constitution. Since there are no experience rules in Metamorphosis Alpha, it is thus unlikely a character will ever gain any more hit points than what is rolled at the start of play. "Normal" weapons, which is to say, the sorts starting characters typically possess – swords, spears, bows, etc. – do damage comparable to their OD&D counterparts, meaning that most starting MA characters are more robust than those in OD&D, capable of sustaining more hits before expiring. 

The matter of damage is complicated by both mutations and high-tech weapons. Many mutations, like heightened precision and heightened strength, increase the number of dice a normal weapon does. Characters with these mutations can dish out quite a lot of damage, using even a sword or mace. High-tech weapons are even more dangerous. A laser pistol, for example, deals 5, 10, or 15d6 damage, depending on the type of armor worn by the target. Then there are other mutations, both physical and mental, that deal poison or radiation damage or target the mind of an enemy rather than his body. These, too, can deal devastating damage. One of the characters in the campaign has poison claws with strength 11 poison that's capable of killing any creature with a Constitution score of 11 or less on a single strike.

As I noted at the start of this post, we've only just started playing Metamorphosis Alpha. We're still finding our footing and I am sure there will be many missteps along the way. The combat system is, so far, the most confusing part of the game to get right, mostly because it's just enough like OD&D that we sometimes forget the ways that it differs. Likewise, I suspect that we may all be too complacent about damage. Other than a single, limited use slug thrower, the characters do not yet have access to any high-tech weaponry, nor have they faced opponents who do. When that changes, I expect we'll all be in for a surprise!

I'll no doubt have more to say about all of this, once we've had the chance to play the game more. 

Feigning Ignorance

Though we're only two sessions into the Metamorphosis Alpha campaign, everyone seems to be enjoying themselves, including me. Prior to this, I don't believe any of the players involved had ever had the chance to play MA before or, if they had, did so for very long. All of them were, of course, familiar with the game in broad terms, including its central premise. While I'm sure there have been many players over the decades who weren't aware that their characters were actually aboard a generation ship gone mad after a chance encounter with a radiation cloud, that's definitely not the case in my campaign. Everyone playing the game already knows the score.

I bring this up, because one of several things about the campaign that I've enjoying as the referee is watching the players pretend, via their characters, that they have no inkling of the Big Picture. The characters began the campaign as inhabitants of the village of Habitat, located on the shores of Lake Refuge within Wolf Forest. So far as the characters know, their ancestors journeyed here from the Barren Hills of Warden after having been cast out of the First Garden by the Builder. This is the world as the characters know it and the players have been operating within that frame.

In reality, though, the characters live on Habitat Level 2 of the starship Warden, one of two levels constructed to look like natural, terrestrial environments – in this case a forest – with an appropriate "climate" maintained by artificial means. Though there are a couple of features to this environment that reveal its true origins, like the Sky Columns (elevators) that can be seen reaching upwards, none of this is known to the characters, who have a fairly simple, even primitive worldview.

Consequently, when we had our first session a couple of weeks ago, I presented the current situation in Habitat in accordance with that worldview. The weather had suddenly gotten inexplicably colder, harming the crops, killing off game animals, and threatening to do the same to the old and infirm among the villagers. The elders did not know the cause and so sent the characters off into the wilds to seek a solution or, barring that, the location of the places where their ancestors first dwelled when they came to Warden. If nothing else, they could retreat there and escape the encroaching cold.

The elders have them all supplies, including a "wrath stick," an ancient Gift, to be wielded by the party's leader (a pure human, since mutants bear the curse of the Builder). To him, they taught the prayers necessary to use it – the Prayer of Loading, the Mantra of Targeting, and the Prayer of Humble Jam-Clearing. Then, they set off to ascertain what was happening and, if possible, to correct it, so that the people of Habitat might once again resume their toil in hopes of securing the Builder's favor, so that they might one enter the promised New Garden.

Again, to be clear, the players understood a lot of things I described to their characters under veiled words. For example, they recognized the "wrath stick" as a firearm, but their characters viewed it as a holy artifact and treated it with appropriate reverence. When the party's leader prepared to fire it for the first time, he recited the necessary prayers beforehand and several of the characters added, "Praise the Builder!" at the end of it, which I appreciated. The prayers do nothing, but the characters believe they do, which is why they recite them whenever the wrath stick is employed.

For whatever reason, I absolutely love this. I think it's the proper spirit in which to enter playing a game like Metamorphosis Alpha, whose Big Secret was revealed almost half a century ago. There is simply no way to preserve it at this late a date and I'm hard pressed to imagine ways to "subvert" it that don't do extreme violence to the game's central premise. That's why I think the approach my players have taken – leaning into their characters' ignorance of the true situation – is probably the best way to enjoy MA in 2025. As I've said before, I have no idea how sustainable this is over the long term, but I plan to have fun with it for however long it lasts.

Retrospective: Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega

Since I recently started refereeing Metamorphosis Alpha, I've been thinking a lot about the game and its history. This inevitably led me back to the only version of MA I actually owned before the 21st century – 1994's Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega, released as part of TSR's Amazing Engine series of games. Like the original version of Metamorphosis Alpha. this version of the game is fairly obscure, with comparatively few people even remembering its existence, let alone having played it. Indeed, I think it's possible that it's even more obscure than its predecessor, perhaps by being one of the last Amazing Engine products published during the tumultuous final years of TSR.

For those who don't recall, Amazing Engine was TSR's attempt to produce a set of generic rules that could be easily ported to a variety of different genres and settings. Designed by David Cook, the Amazing Engine rules were very "light," based on four ability scores, skills, and percentile resolution. Each setting book for the game built on this foundation, adding specific rules as needed. In Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega, for example, specific rules additions primarily concerned mutations and high-tech equipment. 

Never having actually played any Amazing Engine game – a distinction I doubt is unique – I can’t speak to how well it worked in practice. Nor do I know whether the line’s cancellation less than two years after its launch reflects problems with the system itself or simply TSR’s dire financial state at the time, when no new product line likely stood much chance. The sad thing is that Amazing Engine did produce several genuinely interesting settings. I was particularly fond of For Faerie, Queen & Country, a Victorian fantasy setting, and Kromosome, a “biopunk” setting. Several of the other eight published settings were, by most accounts, also quite well done, though few people seemed to notice. Amazing Engine was very much a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it product line from the last days of TSR.

Designer Slade Henson, in his preface to Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega, explains that the game began its life as a supplement to the 4th edition of Gamma World. That does not surprise me, since Jim Ward had been promising an MA supplement/expansion to Gamma World since at least 1981. The game's third edition very much seemed to be building toward it as well, making it one of the few things that captured my attention about that particular version of the game. However, it was never to be, nor, as Henson recounts, was it to happen for 4th edition. Once GW 4e was cancelled, the planned Metamorphosis Alpha boxed set – complete "a couple billion cards, a few trillion maps, and a googolplex of creative tidbits for the Game Master" – was to be converted into a stand-alone 144-page book. "I think I sobbed that day," Henson says, and I can't really blame him.

That said, the resulting book, truncated though it is from its original form, is not bad. I won't go so far as to call it good, because it has numerous flaws. However, it was, as I said, the first time I'd seen Metamorphosis Alpha in print in any form and so I liked it well enough. Furthermore, in many ways, it's an improvement on its legendary predecessor, most notably its organization and its relative completeness. It's perfectly possible to run an MA campaign with Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega and not be constantly beset with questions like, "What exactly does this mutation do?" or "Where did I see the rules for surprise?" Speaking as a referee in the midst of trying to make sense of the 1976 MA rulebook and occasionally failing, these improvements are no small things.

Likewise, Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega gives a much clearer and more well defined sense of not only what happened on the starship Warden in the past but also in the present. The book provides referees with a history of the ship, from its launch to its encounter with the radiation cloud to its fall. There's also a post-sized map of all nine decks of the Warden, along with its various city and agricultural domes. These, in turn, are each described, giving the referee some sense of their inhabitants and current state. The end result is a much more cohesive presentations of the Warden and plenty of possible starting points for new campaigns and adventures.

None of these features are bad in themselves and, arguably, they're boons. One of the flaws of the original Metamorphosis Alpha is its sketchiness. As I mentioned in a previous post, MA 1976 is more of an outline toward an RPG than a fully playable game. In that respect, it's a bit like OD&D. On the other hand, one could reasonably argue that that very sketchiness is a virtue, giving individual referees a very free hand to make the Warden – and the game itself – his own, since he's left with no choice but to fill in the game's innumerable blank spaces and lacunae himself. 

By contrast, Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega does a lot more of the heavy lifting for you – not all of it by any means, but enough that there's a much stronger and more well defined foundation on which to build. That can be a great thing, provided you like the foundation. Otherwise, it can actually be harder to use, since the referee now has to work against the overall content and tone on offer rather than simply making it all up from scratch. I think it's here that Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega is more of a mixed bag. Many of the descriptions of the Warden's current state are, in my opinion, strange and silly – like a tribe of Amazons who worship deactivated robots and mutant cows engaged in a range war against cowboy hat-wearing ranchers, to cite just two examples. 

Your mileage may vary, of course, which is why I can't say Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega is unqualifiedly bad. It's not and, by many definitions, it does a really good job, given the constraints under which it was produced and published. I also have some affection for it, since it was the first version of MA I owned and it has probably subtly informed my sense of what the game and setting is without my even realizing it. But a replacement to the original 1976 game it is not, which, for all its many flaws, strikes me as much more filled with possibility than its would-be successor. 

How Weird is My Mutant?

I have a lot of experience with Gamma World. primarily its first edition, though I refereed a lot of second edition too. Consequently, my default perspective when it comes to generating mutant characters is very much colored by its rules. So, when the players of my new Metamorphosis Alpha campaign started doing so, I simply assumed that MA's rules were similar to those of GW. As it turns out, they are – but similarity does not mean the same, as I soon discovered. Mutant characters, both human and animal (or "monster," as the text calls them), have enough differences in the way they're created that my players and I were often mistaken in our initial understanding of how the rules work (a situation made all the worse by the poor organization of Metamorphosis Alpha).

In both games, players can choose to be either a humanoid mutant or an animal mutant. Also in both games, mutants of both types begin play with 1d4 physical and mental mutations. So far, so good. However, in Metamorphosis Alpha, the player chooses these mutations from the frustratingly non-alphabetized list. Then, the referee (or "judge," as he's inconsistently called in the text) "roll[s] randomly for physical or mental defect (or one of each if the player has 5 or more total mutations)." There are a lot fewer defects to choose from, meaning that, if the group of player characters is large enough, there may be some that recur.

Gamma World, meanwhile, presents two systems for generating mutations, something I've discussed before. The standard system determines the mutations randomly through the use of percentile dice and the (thankfully now-alphabetized) list of physical and mental mutations includes defects among them. In this way, not only is there likely to be a greater variety of mutations among the characters but defects, when they are present, will also be more variable. Of course, Gamma World also includes a system very similar to that of Metamorphosis Alpha as an option, but I don't think I've ever encountered anyone who made use of it. Indeed, the random generation of mutations is, in my experience, considered a signature feature of the game and a big part – mistaken in my opinion – why the game is often considered "silly,"

The game's lack of organization has some bearing on character generation as well. For example, animal mutants must select Heightened Intelligence as a mental mutations or else they are deemed to have mere bestial intellect and are unable to communicate or react logically. This fact is only mentioned in the description of Heightened Intelligence, which makes it easy to overlook. Of course, the sample mutant animal character doesn't have Heightened Intelligence and yet still seems, from context, to be able to communicate via Telepathy. There's also a note that the character's animal species – bear – "can't normally talk," implying that animals might need the New Body Parts physical mutation to be able to do so (though, again, this isn't outright stated). It's all a bit of a mess.

What I noticed was that, since players can choose their character's mutations, certain ones became very popular, like Carapace and Life Leech. Furthermore, many mutations are quite potent when possessed by a single mutant. One of the characters, a mutant human named Mee D'Ochre – yes, it's that kind of group – had Heightened Strength, Heightened Balance, and Military Genius, which together allow him to deal 7d6 damage when striking with a sword! That combination would have an identical effect in Gamma World but the likelihood of rolling all three is much lessened, compared to selecting them.

 I'm fine with this, since, as I said yesterday, this campaign is intended as much as an exploration of Metamorphosis Alpha as it is a campaign in its own right. I suspect, as I did when I played OD&D and Empire of the Petal Throne for the first time, I'll house rule and adapt MA as we discover what works and doesn't work for our particular group and play style. That's part of the fun of these old RPGs: they're, in many ways, outlines for creating your own roleplaying game rather than complete and usable "out of the box." That's not a criticism, just an observation, and one with which I'm quite comfortable.

I'll have more to say on the rules of Metamorphosis Alpha in future posts. It's a rich topic for discussion.

Forward into the Past

I've written many times about the origins of this blog, including just a few months ago. A major component of Grognardia's genesis was my rediscovery of the original 1974 edition of Dungeons & Dragons. OD&D was a game I never played back in my youth, though I did acquire a copy of it in the late '80s, toward the end of my high school years. Back then, I saw it mostly as a not very interesting historical artifact – something superseded by later versions of the game, most especially AD&D, which, at the time, I would have considered the epitome of D&D. 

I no longer feel that way, thanks in large part to a number of people whom I met through the ODD74 message boards over the course of several feverish months between December 2007 and March 2008. I learned a lot from the fine fellows there, including the ability to put aside my AD&D-inflected preconceptions of what Dungeons & Dragons is and indeed ought to be. I really felt like a veil had been lifted from my eyes and that I finally saw not just D&D but roleplaying games more generally in a new and much more compelling light. This change in perspective is what really planted the seeds that would flower into this blog. I was reminded of all of this earlier this week, when I refereed the first session of my new Metamorphosis Alpha campaign. 

Metamorphosis Alpha is an old game. First published in 1976, it was TSR's fourth RPG after OD&D, Boot Hill, and Empire of the Petal Throne. It's also the first science fiction roleplaying game, having been released ahead of both Starfaring and Traveller. Like all of these games – maybe not Traveller, whose design really is both clear and complete – Metamorphosis Alpha is downright primitive in its rules presentation. People (understandably) like to criticize OD&D for its lacunae and infelicities of expression, but, having now had the chance to make use of MA as a referee, I don't think it's unreasonable to say that its rules are much less clear and complete than those of original Dungeons & Dragons.

That's not a criticism, merely an observation. Some of this is probably a function of the fact that MA is presented in a single 32-page booklet. Conceding the fact that it's a full-sized book with very small typeface, I'd still wager that's much shorter than the three volumes of OD&D. Given that, it's no wonder that it would fail to include or explicate all sorts of rules that would probably make playing it easier. Like OD&D, I imagine that some rules were omitted on the assumption that referees and players would simply fill in the blanks themselves. Consider the game's foreword by Gary Gygax and Brian Blume, which explains:

METAMORPHOSIS ALPHA is a free-form system, giving rules and guidelines for the basics of play and setting up the starship, but allowing the players and referee unlimited use of their imagination to create new problems and methods of solving them. Using the guidelines of the rules, the referee "creates" the starship (beginning a little at a time), sets up social structures for his people, plans the various mutations, places clues about the starship for the players to find, and any other of a multitude of possible happenings. They players takes it from there as they explore the starship ("seeing" only what they actually would, as the referee keeps his plans and notes secret), trying to gain the knowledge and technological devices they need to survive. From then on, the referee can add new facets to the game as they become desirable. The game is a continuous adventure which need never end.

Similarly, the book ends by saying:

Remember, however, that these rules (and specific portions thereof) are only intended as guidelines – and that many details are best described by the individual game judge. Science fiction can be completely open-ended, and so too this game of science fiction adventure!

This is all very much of a piece with the conclusion of Volume 3 of OD&D, which famously asked "why have us do any more of your imagining for you?" It's a reminder, too, of the fact that the earliest roleplaying games grew out of a hobbyist culture in which players and referees were not merely encouraged but indeed expected to add, subtract, change, or expand upon what was presented in the rulebook. Viewed from this perspective, Metamorphosis Alpha can't really be called "incomplete," even if it was often occasionally frustrating to figure out how many of its rules were intended to work in play.

Still, we had a lot of fun during our first session and I think a big part of the reason why was the sense that, just like so many of us had done with OD&D, we were now exploring a forgotten and underappreciated part of the early hobby. While confusing and incomplete, Metamorphosis Alpha is a game that needs to be taken on its own terms and understood within the context in which it was not only created but also first appeared. That's what I intend to do over the coming weeks and months as I develop my version of the starship Warden and slowly reveal it to the players. 

Around the Campfire

On some nights, around the campfire, the village shaman – the Enginer – tells the following tale:

Long ago, the People dwelt in the First Garden. Shaped by the hands of the Builder, it was green beyond imagining, filled with waters that murmured like song and fruits that never failed. In those days, the Builder walked unseen among His children, guiding them through the soft meadows and gifting them with wonders that eased every burden. These Gifts – rare relics now – could mend wounds, command the elements, or summon angels of strange metal. The People lived without toil and they called themselves blessed.

Yet, as seasons passed uncounted, the People grew proud. They praised not the Builder but their own cleverness. They claimed the Gifts as their own works and whispered that the Garden’s perfection proved they needed no master. Their pride soured the soil and the Builder, though slow to anger, grew sorrowful.

He sent His fiercest angel, Bright-Ruin, whose secret name is Rad-Ashun, meaning "burning breath," to humble the People.

Bright-Ruin descended as a storm of unseen fire. Its passing cracked the earth, stilled the rivers, and dimmed the very light of the Garden. The wondrous Gifts turned wild or deadly. The First Garden fell in a single long night of flame and thunder.

But the Builder, though angered, did not cast the People into oblivion. Instead, He gathered the survivors and carried them to a new place – a hard place, a place of punishment and contrition where pride was impossible and ease a luxury.

He named this land Warden.

Warden, in the Old Tongue, means " a place of keeping," a realm of confinement where the People would dwell until they remembered the humility they had cast aside. Warden was not a prison of bars and walls, but of spiritual confinement, a vast wilderness meant to teach obedience, endurance, and wisdom.

Here, among the Barren Hills, the People were set to labor. Here, they would feel hunger, cold, and the bite of honest earth beneath their feet. Here they would live under the watchful eye of the Builder until the day they proved worthy of his love once more.

Our ancestors wandered long in this place of penance until they found the strong river we call the Ranger that wound like a silver chain through Warden’s harsh heart. Following its course, they reached the calm waters of Lake Refuge and made their first home: Habitat. There, they learned again the value of work, community, and gratitude for even the smallest blessing.

Fragments of the Builder’s Gifts lie scattered across Warden. They glimmer like temptations, powerful yet perilous. Those who forget the lesson of pride may draw Bright-Ruin’s gaze once more.

However, one day, when the People have endured enough seasons of hardship and have walked in humility for many generations, the Builder may lift the sentence placed upon them. Then He will break open the gates of Warden and lead His children to the New Garden, fairer still than the first.

Until that day, the People live under the watchful grace and stern discipline of the land that bears their fate in its very name.

The Die Is Cast

Last week, I mentioned that, with the Barrett's Raiders Twilight: 2000 campaign now ended, the group and I would need to make a decision about what to play next. I offered the players four (and a half) options: Gamma World/Metamorphosis Alpha, Secrets of sha-Arthan, Thousand Suns, and Urheim. As you can probably tell from the accompanying illustration, they chose Metamorphosis Alpha, which, I must admit, surprised me a little bit – not unhappily so, since I look forward to playing it, but I didn't think it would be as popular a choice as it turned out to be.

So, starting next week, we'll be playing one of the oldest RPGs and the first science fiction one ever published. It's also a game I've never refereed before, though I did play in a MA campaign some years ago, so this will be a learning experience for me too. That said, I've thought a lot about the game over the years and have a number of ideas to draw upon. Whether they'll survive contact with the players only time will tell, but I'm keen to see how this unfolds.

Like OD&D and Empire of the Petal Throne, Metamorphosis Alpha is mechanically somewhat sparse, with lots of lacunae and inconsistencies, as we discovered yesterday while trying to generate characters. That's fine. Part of my enjoyment of playing older games is figuring out how to make its unclear and often incomplete rules work in a way that make sense for our campaign. I rather expect that, after a few sessions, our version of MA will develop its own set of house rules and rules interpretations, as all good campaigns do. That's as it should be in my opinion.

Right now, my only worry, if that's the word, about this choice of game is whether Metamorphosis Alpha is capable of sustaining a long campaign. One of the players asked me how long I intended to run MA and I answered, "As long as I can – like all my campaigns." Barrett's Raiders lasted just shy of four years. The Riphaeus Sector Traveller campaign before it lasted slightly less long. And, of course, House of Worms lasted more than a decade. In each case, I didn't expect the campaign would last as long as it did, but I hoped they'd continue indefinitely. That's my preference when it comes to roleplaying, because I feel that, in general, these games are best enjoyed as long form entertainment. 

I mentioned this to my players yesterday and they were unconcerned. If Metamorphosis Alpha doesn't last more than a few months, that's OK. It'll be a nice palate cleanser after Barrett's Raiders and we can always take up a different game later. They have no expectations that we'll still be playing this a year from now, let alone five or ten years from now. They're just happy to be roleplaying with friends each week, which I think is a wise perspective. Still, after the phenomenal longevity of House of Worms, I must confess there's a part of me that wonders whether any campaign I do afterwards will ever measure up. That, as my players reminded me, isn't the way to view this, but I do nonetheless. 

In any case, I'm now about to embark on yet another new campaign and I can't help but wonder if it will take root and flourish or not. Regardless, I'll write about it periodically here, starting next week with a discussion of its first session. Until then!

And So It Begins

As I posted yesterday, my Barrett's Raiders Twilight: 2000 campaign, which started in December 2021, has ended. Though sad (and even a little disappointing), its conclusion opens up a slot in my weekly schedule for a new campaign and that's always exciting. Just what that new campaign will be is still very uncertain and depends, to a great extent, on the interests of the remaining players. We'll discuss the matter at some length at our next meeting, but, in order to get the ball rolling, I sent them a selection of four(ish) RPG I'd enjoy refereeing for them, which I thought I'd share with you as well.

Gamma World/Metamorphosis Alpha

I'm pretty sure I've mentioned, likely many times, that I've long been a huge fan of Gamma World. In my youth, it was one of my favorite games, just losing out of a spot in my Holy Trinity of RPGs to Call of Cthulhu. It's one of those games I find very easy to run, both from an ideas perspective and from a mechanical one. I have little trouble coming up with fun scenarios for Gamma World and its rules are straightforward and easy to use – two great boons when it comes to refereeing a roleplaying game. 

Notice that I've included Metamorphosis Alpha as a possibility too. That's because, while I have played MA, I have never actually run it myself and doing so has long been a dream of mine. In some ways, I actually prefer the campaign frame of Metamorphosis Alpha to that of Gamma World, perhaps because it appeals to my fascination with "secret sci-fi" settings. So, given my druthers, I would press for MA over Gamma World, but I'd be equally happy with either.

Secrets of sha-Arthan

This is a no-brainer. I've working sporadically on this project since June of 2021, during which time it's undergone a number of different changes and evolutions. Those of you who've subscribed to Grognardia Games Direct know about its current state, since that's where I post regularly about it. However, I've not yet had the chance to do anything more with it than run short scenarios. What it really needs is a proper campaign to take its development to the next level and this might be the perfect time to do that.

I considered starting a SosA campaign after the conclusion of House of Worms last month, but opted not to due to its very broad similarities to Tékumel. It's a baroque, exotic fantasy setting with a secret sci-fi substratum – I'm sensing a theme here – albeit one based on very different historical/cultural influences than those of Tékumel. However, my Monday night group includes a different set of players, so the comparisons to Tékumel wouldn't be a problem.

Thousand Suns

In a similar fashion, Thousand Suns is another good option. Like Secrets of sha-Arthan, I'm currently in the midst of revising and reorganizing it in preparation for the released of a second edition. Also like SosA, I'm chronicling my work on this project over at Grognardia Games Direct. This is a game that's very near and dear to my heart and one I haven't run for some years now, so it'd be great to have the opportunity to do so again.

Furthermore, one of the goals of the second edition is to make the rules of Thousand Suns clearer and easier to use. They're already pretty good in this regard, I think, but I hope to make them even better. I also want to do a better job of highlighting those aspects of the game that distinguish it from its competitors and inspirations. Refereeing a campaign would give me lots of opportunities to do just that.

Urheim

Urheim was my second attempt (after Dwimmermount) to produce a megadungeon suitable as the foundation for an entire old school D&D campaign. I got fairly far into constructing it before moving on to other projects, but it's still something I think about from time to time. 

Consequently, I thought now might be a good time to return to it as a replacement for Barrett's Raiders. A megadungeon campaign is very straightforward and easy to maintain. It's also got the potential to spin off in a variety of different fun directions, so it's a good fit for my personal refereeing style. If I did return to Urheim, I'd almost certainly use Old School Essentials, probably of the advanced variety, for the rules, though part of me wants to dive back into OD&D + Supplements.  

And that's where things stand at the moment. Which of these options will be chosen is (mostly) up to my players. I'm very curious as to what they'll chose.

The Setting of Gamma World (Conclusion)

Having now spent far too much time delving into my collection of Gamma World rulebooks and supplements – and not even having even read them all – I think I'm now in a better position to offer some conclusions regarding its setting. In the interests of clarity and concision, I'll present these as number points.

1. It's often overlooked that Gamma World is a sequel of sorts to James M. Ward's first stab at a post-apocalyptic RPG, 1976's Metamorphosis Alpha. Like its descendant, MA is about mutants in a world gone mad after a civilization-ending disaster. The key difference is that the "world" of Metamorphosis Alpha is an interstellar generation ship launched from Earth in the late 23rd century – a setting that is unmistakably in our future.
2. I mention this because I think it's important to understanding the background to Ward's own conception of the setting of Gamma World, namely that of Metamorphosis Alpha writ large, so as to encompass the entire Earth.
3. However, it's clear that, from a fairly early stage in its development, Gamma World was never the sole product of James M. Ward. At the very least, Gary Jaquet had an influence over its development, as likely did Tom Wham, Timothy Jones, and even Gary Gygax. Each injected their own ideas into the game, diluting Ward's original vision of a high-tech apocalypse occurring several centuries into our future.
4. Consequently, the setting of the 1978 Gamma World rulebook is something of a mishmash, consisting of a strongly high-tech science fictional foundation atop of which were added numerous elements that don't quite comport with it.
5. While the non-Ward elements of Gamma World don't wholly undermine the implication that the setting is a futuristic one, they do muddy the waters quite a bit, thereby lending credence to the common belief that the End comes in the relatively near future rather than the 24th century.
6. There was never a strong editorial hand on the Gamma World game line, especially in its early years. Therefore, each release for the game is sui generis, reflecting the tastes and ideas of the authors who created them. The fact that Ward himself never wrote a single stand-alone scenario for the game line during its first and second editions did little to clarify the situation.

Ultimately, there is no single Gamma World setting, however much James M. Ward might have intended otherwise. That said, I personally believe that the game makes the most sense – to the extent that that's even possible – as being set in the aftermath of a future apocalypse. That's certainly the frame I'll use, when I finally get around to starting up a Gamma World campaign. Your mileage may vary.

The Setting of Gamma World (Part I)

 A little while ago, I wrote a short post about the inspirations of Gamma World. My original purpose was to draw attention to the handful of explicit (primarily literary) inspirations mentioned in the 1978 game's foreword. In doing so, though, I found myself thinking more and more about the seeming disjunction between the way the game presents itself and the way it was viewed by players and referees at the time (and in the years since). 

The first thing that immediately stands out is that the apocalypse of Gamma World occurs in the early 24th century (2322, at least according to the first edition) rather than in the present day or near future. This is the justification for the inclusion of laser weapons and robots and hover cars, for example. I suspect it's also a consequence of the fact that Gamma World's precursor, Metamorphosis Alpha, being set aboard a generation ship, included lots of high technology as well. At the same time, I've come to think that, to the extent it actually has one, James M. Ward's "vision" for Gamma World is closer to Jack Vance's The Dying Earth than The Road Warrior (and not just because the latter postdates the former). 

Despite this, Gamma World doesn't always do a very good job of getting point across. Indeed, if you take a look at all the products released for the first edition of the game – the boxed set, the Referee's Screen, Legion of Gold, and Famine in Far-Go – you'll quickly detect a certain schizophrenia about its setting. On the one hand, there are plenty of examples of the science fictional high technology that one would expect for a world several centuries hence. On the other, there are plenty of nods to familiar, 20th century things that, frankly, make little or no sense within that context. This inability to stay consistent about the setting of the game, I think, contributed to many popular misapprehensions about the game.

For the most part, the original Gamma World rulebook knows what it's about and sticks to the idea that the game takes place in the aftermath of a civilization-shattering disaster in the 24th century. There are thus references to robotic farms and spaceports, in addition to the usual wondrous devices of the Ancients, like blasters, powered armor, and energy cells. There's also much talk of robots, cyborgs, androids, and what we would today call artificial intelligences. The picture the rulebook paints is largely one of a futuristic world fallen to barbarism.

I say "largely," because there's a section, at the very end of the book that, in my opinion, weakens the game's commitment to this futuristic world. That section is its "treasure list," consisting of 100 random items the player characters might find among the ruins. These "treasures" are distinct from the weapons, armor, and other devices in that they are usually of much less obvious utility. They're "artifacts of the Ancients" only in the sense that they represent goods and items from the World Before. In most cases, they're little more than curiosities of the past.

In principle, that's a terrific thing. Every human civilization has left behind plenty of artifacts to be found by later ages. Examining these artifacts are part of what enables us to learn about those dead civilizations and so it should be in a post-apocalyptic setting. However, many – in fact, the majority – of the treasures included in this list are items that make little or no sense in the context of a technologically advanced, futuristic society. Worse still, quite a few of them come across as jokey. So, you get things like a pencil sharpener, a slot machine, a cash register, and a cuckoo clock, alongside pewter TSR belt buckle, hand-painted miniature lead figurines, and a rollerball trophy.

What's most striking about these treasures is that, with a handful of exceptions, they're items that only make sense in a 20th century context rather than being products of a more technologically advanced society. Certainly, one can come up with all sorts of explanations/justifications for why they can still be found in the setting, but I can't help feel this was a missed opportunity to introduce some original – and weird – products of the World Before. This feeling isn't lessened by all the little silly and self-referential items, like the belt buckle and miniatures. 

These criticisms aside, the Gamma World rulebook otherwise does a good job of sticking to its script. The setting it describes is that of a fallen high-tech civilization and its artifacts reflect this. The end result is a world that is almost as alien to its players as it is to the primitive player characters living in its ruins. Gamma World calls itself a "science fantasy roleplaying game" not so much, I think, because the technology of the Ancients is scientifically implausible, but rather because the Earth its setting is now utterly fantastical, thanks to the effects of the apocalypse that engulfed it.  

White Dwarf: Issue #16

Issue #16 of White Dwarf (December/January 1979/1980) features a remarkable cover by Les Edwards. Edwards did a lot of cover illustrations for Games Workshop over the years, as well as providing them for the Fighting Fantasy series. That's probably why this issue gives off such powerful vibes for me, even though I never owned it at the time of its original release. It also helps that the issue's contents are excellent, as I'll discuss presently.

"Chronicle Monsters" by Lewis Pulsipher is a collection of monsters for D&D derived from Stephen Donaldson's "Chronicles of Thomas Covenant" series. The accompanying illustrations are by Russ Nicholson, which is always a treat. Part IV of Andy Slack's "Expanding Universe" for Traveller focuses on social standing and psionics. "Boot Hill Encounters" by Dominic Beddow is, as its title suggests, a collection of random encounters for use with TSR's Boot Hill or other Wild West RPGs. I was surprised to see this article, short though it is, simply because, even in the United States, Western-themed RPGs have always been an acquired taste at best. I can't imagine the genre is any more popular in Britain, but perhaps this simply shows my ignorance.

"Open Box" reviews four products, starting with Boot Hill, which scores 8 out of 10. Also reviewed are GDW's Imperium (9 out of 10) and Snapshot (8 out of 10). The final review – by Don Turnbull – is the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide. Turnbull's review is, of course, effusive, so much so in fact that he offers no numerical score for the book. Instead, he says the following:

In the end, set the task of reviewing something to which I know I cannot do justice, all I can say is – can you afford to be without it?

I say again: it's little wonder to me that Turnbull would eventually be selected to head up TSR UK.

"Paths of the Lil" is a Gamma World adventure by James Ward. This is a scenario that's appeared in various forms over the years, including the second edition of the game published in 1983. Meanwhile, "The Fiend Factory" offers up five more monsters for use with Dungeons & Dragons. "Treasure Chest" presents seventeen new potions, a few of which are quite fun. Consider, for example, the potion of truth:

Mind you, I'm a fan of cursed items and think they ought to be used more often in games, so your mileage may vary. 

Finishing out the issue is a brief report on Games Day V, which took place in October 1979. Accompanying the article are a number of photographs, some of which are quite charming, like this one:

All in all, I found issue #16 very enjoyable. As I mentioned at the start of this post, it looked and felt very much like the issues I would buy and devour several years hence. I'll be very curious to see if this one represents a turning point in the magazine's history and that the things I recognize here, like the cover and interior artwork, will become permanent features or if there will still be a few more bumps in the road.

White Dwarf: Issue #1

I've talked about my experiences with White Dwarf before. It's a RPG magazine that I only read intermittently back in the day and so my memories of it are not as vivid as those of Dragon. Likewise, when I did read it more regularly, it wasn't until late 1982, long after White Dwarf was well established and had settled into a comfortable run. Consequently, I have no direct knowledge of the magazine's early days, which I imagine were pretty wild and woolly. That's why, after the cessation of my examination of Different Worlds, I knew that my next series would be dedicated to White Dwarf.

Issue #1 is listed as June/July 1977, which is one year after the first issue of TSR's Dragon appeared. I think that's significant, because it's a useful reminder of just how early it appeared in the history of the hobby. Remember, too, that the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide explicitly references White Dwarf in a section entitled "Aids to Playing Advanced Dungeons & Dragons," mentioned by side by side with Dragon. The only other third party publications mentioned in that section are those by Judges Guild. This is telling and should be borne in mind as this series goes forward.

The very first article to appear is entitled "Metamorphosis Alpha," written by Ian Livingstone, the magazine's editor and co-founder of Games Workshop. For the most part, the article is simply an overview of the TSR RPG of the same name. However, the article is more than that, offering new rules for gravitation, as well as discussions of stories like Robert Heinlein's Orphans of the Sky and Non-Stop by Brian Aldiss that influenced the game's creation. More interestingly, Livingstone offers some criticisms and suggestions for improvement.

Back to the rules themselves and criticisms. There are not many but just enough to irritate. The initial task of designing the starship and its contents is lengthy – unless your players want to play for the next four years solid, I suggest a smaller starship (same number of decks). 

Don Turnbull's "Monstermark System" presents a complex mathematical system for assessing the relative challenge of a D&D monsters relative to others (and to the level of player characters). Honestly, I have little basis for evaluating the the utility of the system, since I've never used it. Truth be told, I've never seen much use for this kind of evaluation, but I readily concede that I'm probably unusual in not caring about such matters. I know that the Monstermark System has a solid reputation among fans of D&D, so I have little doubt that Turnbull had come up something worthy of consideration.

"Open Box" is a collection of reviews, focusing on two wargames: SPI's Sorcerer and Avalon Hill's Starship Troopers. Meanwhile, "Competitive D&D" by Fred Hemmings tells the tale of one referee's desire to "score" a dungeon expedition, as two competing parties attempt to make their way through it. I've long been curious about this sort of set-up, so I read the article with some interest. "D&D Campaigns" by Lewis Pulsipher is the first part of a series dedicated to exploring how to establish a D&D campaign and adapt the game's rules to particular styles of play. The article is fine as far as it goes, very similar to other articles Pulsipher was publishing in other magazine's at the time. 

"The Warlord" by Steve Jackson – co-founder of Games Workshop, not (confusingly) Steve Jackson Games – is a discussion of the self-published boardgame The Warlord by Mike Hayes. I'd never heard of the game before, which is apparently quite similar to Risk but with nuclear missiles. "What's Wrong with D&D" by Andrew D. Holt offers complaints and suggestions for "fixing" the game's combat and magic systems. Ho-hum. Alan Youde's "Poison" adopts the poison rules in Metamorphosis Alpha for use with D&D. Shrug. There's also a new magic item (helm of vision) by Steven Littlechild.

All in all, the first issue of White Dwarf feels very amateurish – as it should. It's an uneven mix of material, none of which is bad, but very little of which stands out as noteworthy, with the possible exception of "Monstermark System." Nevertheless, it shows clear promise and I know from personal experience that it does improve with time. Much like Different Worlds (or Dragon, for that matter), it takes a while before a roleplaying magazine finds its footing and I have little doubt the same will be true of White Dwarf.  

Different Worlds: Issue #7

Issue #7 of Different Worlds (April/May 1980) features a cover by Cora L. Healy, an artist known for her work on science fiction periodicals throughout the 1970s and early '80s. The issue proper begins with an installment of the "Beginner's Brew" column that lists "all the more popular role-playing games (RPGs) and magazines available." The games and magazines are divided up by publisher, sixteen for RPGs and fourteen for magazines. There are also fifteen miniatures manufacturers listed. The list are interesting, most especially for the "forthcoming" games mentioned, such as Chaosium's Dark Worlds and Elric RuneQuest and Heritage USA's Heroes of Middle Earth. 

"Ten Days in the Arena of Khazan" by Ken St. Andre is a seven-page outline of a campaign for use with Tunnels & Trolls. More than that, though, it's an overview of a portion of the game's setting of Trollworld, with lots of interesting tidbits about its history and peoples. I really enjoyed this article, because it gave me some insight into what it's like to play in St. Andre's home campaign, a topic that never ceases to interest me. 

I find it hard to disagree with Richard L. Snider's effusive review of Cults of Prax, one of the truly great RPG supplements of all time. He rightly deems it "the best extant cosmology designed for use with any FRP" – which was probably true in 1980 and, even today, it stands head and shoulders above most other treatments of similar topics. "Gloranthan Birthday Tables" by Morgan O. Woodward III is a series of random tables to determine when a Gloranthan character is born, with special attention given to those during Sacred Time (and the special abilities that might come from such an auspicious birth). 

Part two of the "Vardy Combat System" by John T. Sapienza appears in this issue. A variant combat system for use with Dungeons & Dragons, this article provides expanded rules and tables for handling parries, shields, hit points, and more. What I appreciate about the system is that it strives to be genuinely compatible with D&D's existing combat system rather than simply replacing it. The article even offers a further option that uses D20 rolls rather than percentile ones, for even further compatibility. As I said previously, I have not tested this system and have no idea how well it works in practice, but, from reading it, I think it might be worthy testing out in play.

"Foundchild Cult" by Sandy Petersen is a cult for use with RuneQuest and its setting of Glorantha. Meanwhile. Steve Perrin reviews In the Labyrinth by Steve Jackson. Perrin thinks very highly of the game, his main complaint being that, like Tunnels & Trolls before it, allows characteristics to increase as a character gains experience, something that he thinks inevitably leads to an "incredibly strong, lightning fast, cosmically intelligent character who seems to have stepped directly from the pages of Marvel or DC Comics." I think that's a fair criticism and one of the reasons I prefer the more grounded approach taken by many older RPGs. 

James M. Ward offers "Power Groups and Player Characters in RPGs," in which he talks specifically about the importance of factions in a campaign. He then provides examples from his home Metamorphosis Alpha campaign, showing how the characters became involved with them and how this involvement affected the development of the campaign. It's a solid, though short, article, covering a topic that is increasingly near and dear to my heart. "Two from Grenadier" by John T. Sapienza is a lengthy, five-page article that reviews in detail two AD&D boxed sets from Grenadier Models, Woodland Adventurers and Tomb of Spells. His review is quite positive overall and a nice bit of nostalgia for me, since I once owned both of the boxed sets in question.

"System Snobbery" by Larry DiTillio is an early entry in the now well-worn genre of "there are no bad RPGs, just bad GMs" articles. It's fine for what it is; its main interest to me was DiTillio's recounting of his experience with various GMs over the years. Gigi D'Arn's gossip column this month mentions the departure of Tim Kask from the editorship of Dragon and eludes to "dubious circumstances." There's further mention of a D&D movie, as well as a reference to something called the "AD&D Companion," a collection of variants for use with D&D and AD&D. I suspect this is either simply untrue or a garbled rumor of something like the Best of Dragon anthology, the first of which did appear in 1980. Concluding the issue is "Oriental Weapons for RuneQuest" by Sean Summers, with additional material by Steve Perrin. It's pretty much what you'd expect for this type of article, a staple of the '70s and '80s, when all things Asian were the rage in RPG circles.

Saving Throws in EPT

In the realm of roleplaying games, saving throws are, for the most, a distinctly D&D game mechanic. Almost none of the RPGs TSR published during the first decade of its existence included saving throws, not even Metamorphosis Alpha or Gamma World, whose mechanical debts to D&D are obvious and well known. However, Empire of the Petal Throne, published just a year and a half after the initial release of OD&D, does include saving throws, as we can see.

Though unique to EPT, the chart's pedigree is apparent. Some of the saving throw categories are nominally different and there are fewer of them – four instead of five – but there can be little doubt that they ultimately derive from OD&D. The categories of poison and spells are shared by both, while EPT's paralysis/hypnosis is similar to OD&D's wands and eyes are akin to dragon breath. EPT warriors follow the same progression as OD&D fighting men, right down to the numbers needed for each saving throw category. Magic-users and priests in EPT have a four-level progression like OD&D clerics and saving throw numbers that are almost identical to those of OD&D magic-users, except in the category of eyes, where these classes are better than both of OD&D's spellcasters. Empire of the Petal Throne is sometimes described as a "D&D variant" and, as this shows, there's more than a little truth to that assertion.

More interesting, I think, is the fact that the section detailing saving throws is followed immediately by a section entitled "The Gods, Cohorts, and Divine Intervention." The gods of Tékumel are active in the world and (I think) every rules set created for the setting has included rules for how player characters might invoke their assistance in times of great necessity. I can't help but wonder, in this context, if Professor Barker mightn't have viewed saving throws as minor example of potential divine intervention. In the Dungeon Masters Guide, Gary Gygax describes them in these terms, noting that saving throws might represent "skill, luck, magical protections, quirks of fate and the aid of supernatural powers." I may be incorrect in making this connection, but the placement of the discussion of saving throws is nonetheless suggestive, especially considering that D&D generally places them in the section on combat – food for thought, at any rate!

We Need Large Groups

Number of Players: At least one referee and from four to fifty players can be handled in any single campaign, but the referee to player ratio should be about 1:2- or thereabouts.

–Men & Magic, Volume 1 of Dungeons & Dragons (1974)

Players: The more the merrier!

–Metamorphosis Alpha (1976) 

Any number of people can participate in a campaign or scenario, although generally 40 players should be treated as a maximum. Optimum game size (based on the ability of the referee to control and interact effectively) is from three to ten persons.

–Characters and Combat, Book 1 of Traveller (1977) 

When I first took up the hobby of roleplaying, my neighborhood circle of friends consisted of seven people, a number that often increased, such as when one friend's cousin from Minnesota spent the summer with him or when we met up more distant school acquaintances to do something together. Consequently, my earliest experiences of playing RPGs, especially Dungeons & Dragons, include being surrounded by a sizable number of people. I've talked before about the local gaming meet-ups and the the number of participants at most of the games there. Those games were raucous, lively affairs – even anarchic by many measures – but I enjoyed them a lot, which is why I regularly reflect on them on this blog. 

I found myself thinking about this recently, because, due to a concatenation of events, my House of Worms campaign hasn't met for the last couple of weeks. That's highly unusual. There are eight players in the campaign and it's rare that more than a couple of them are unavailable on a given week. That's one of the joys of a large group: there are always enough people to play.  That means more than one might think, since it's only through regular, continuous play that a campaign can be built up and survive for years. And, as a commenter on another post rightly said, long campaigns are "indeed the acme of the hobby." Anything else is, in my opinion, a mere shadow of what the hobby is capable of.

In the past, I used to make all sorts of excuses as to why my groups consisted of only three or four people and some of them might even have been valid explanations rather than facile rationalizations. I can't do that any longer, as it's become increasingly clear that I'd been missing out on the chaotic creative energies that can only be unleashed by a larger group of players. I've had fun with small groups certainly and I'd even argue that, in some contexts – an espionage campaign à la Top Secret, for instance – they make more sense than large ones, but, as a general rule, I think large groups are vital to the success of a RPG campaign. Indeed, I'd go further and suggest that RPGs were created with large groups in mind.

At some point, though, a shift happened and smaller groups became the norm. I'm not quite sure when it happened or why. A quick survey of games from the early '80s, during the height of RPGs' first instance of faddish popularity, reveals that the subject of the size of a gaming group is rarely addressed at all. When it is, such as in, for example, in Tom Moldvay's Basic Rules, there's a certain hedging of bets:

At least two persons are needed to play this game, though the game is most enjoyable when played by a group of four to eight people.

It's a far cry from OD&D's four to fifty players but still skewing toward a size that is large by the standards of later eras, when smaller groups seems to have become more common – at least that was my experience during the later '80s and into the 1990s. 

The other thing I have observed, especially during this year, is that having a large group of people with whom you regularly game, even if it's only virtually, as it is for most of us these days, is a much needed antidote to the social isolation we might otherwise feel. My House of Worms crew, with whom I've spent many hours, have helped keep me on an even kilter and contributed much to my general level of emotional well-being, which is exactly what any worthwhile entertainment does. Further, the presence of so many different people, with different playing styles, ideas, and temperaments has not only made the campaign richer and more varied than it otherwise would be, it's also, I think, made me a more patient, tolerant, and open-minded person. That's no small thing, particularly in an age when so many of us voluntarily wall ourselves off from others and then despair of loneliness. 

Get out there and play with more people and more regularly. It's good for the hobby and it's good for you too.

Alpha to Omega

In that interview in issue #3 of Polyhedron (Winter 1981–1982) that I've been posting about lately, James M. Ward mentions an unproduced RPG product.

Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega is a title that I remember hearing for years, probably based on a mention or two in the pages of Dragon. It always piqued my interest, since I was, for a time, quite obsessed with finding a copy of Metamorphosis Alpha (as I related here). At least now I know why MA ceased publication and thereby became so difficult to obtain. 

TSR did eventually produce a game with this title, though it was a softcover booklet rather than a boxed set. In 1994, the company released Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega as a campaign setting for its Amazing Engine generic roleplaying game rules. I still have a copy and remember thinking it was actually pretty good, all things considered. Most of the issues I had with it were related to the Amazing Engine rules rather than the content or presentation of the setting itself. I may have to take a look at it again to see if my feelings about it have changed. I continue to think a generation ship gone mad is a great concept for a campaign setting.

This is How You Do It

I mentioned the other day that James M. Ward recently made a reprint of Metamorphosis Alpha available through Lulu.com for the very reasonable price of $14.99. Well, I went ahead and ordered a copy, which I received yesterday -- talk about fast! -- and thought I'd share some brief thoughts about it. Here's a photograph of the cover of the book, which is a staple-bound 36-page booklet:

As you can see, it's a nice, bright cover that very faithfully reproduces the one that appeared on the original 1976 RPG. The interior looks just as good, as you'll see. Here's the inside cover:

There's a very small amount of pixelation in some of the artwork, but it's only really noticeable if you're looking hard for it and it's not present in all of the illustrations. The text, meanwhile, is quite clean and easy to read.

Having read a copy of the original, I'd say that the reprint is probably easier on the eyes (at least my aging ones) and a lot sturdier. Plus, it's cheap, so it can actually be used at the game table without fear that you're damaging some priceless heirloom.

The book contains everything from the 1976 edition, along with two pages of errata and a short campaign outline by creator James M. Ward himself. It's a really nice little package and well worth acquiring if you're interested in the early days of the hobby. It's also, in my opinion, a model for what more game companies should be doing. There's frankly no good reason why more old RPGs shouldn't be made available in print-on-demand form for folks uninterested in paying exorbitant prices just to be able to read these early games. That this version of Metamorphosis Alpha is inexpensive and attractive is another plus and a far cry from some of the PDF versions of older game materials we've seen in the past.

Seriously, why aren't more companies doing what Jim Ward is doing?