Traveller on Minis

Book 1 of the 1977 edition of Traveller simply lists under "Optional Materials" for the game "Miniature Figures (persons, beasts, aliens and spaceships)." The only other explicit reference to miniatures I could find in Book 1 -- please correct me if I'm mistaken -- is in the Personal Combat chapter, where it's noted that

Because the effects of range are so important, and because the ranges between specific characters can vary greatly, it is suggested that the complex combats be mapped out on a line grid (as shown in the diagram). Ordinary lined paper serves this purpose quite well. The grid consists of broad bands in which the characters are placed (use cardboard markers or cast metal miniatures to represent the characters).

As you can see, miniatures are reduced to the role of mere markers on a range grid rather than anything more elaborate.

Book 2 is a different matter altogether. The chapter devoted to Starship Combat begins thusly:

When starships encounter in space, they may be forced to do battle as a result of desire or of circumstance. In such situations, starship battles may be resolved using miniature spaceship combat in accordance with the following rules.

The implication here is that, unlike personal combat, which is natively much more abstract, starship combat is inherently a miniatures-based affair. This is supported further when, while describing the "Basic Parameters" of such combats, the chapter discusses "Space" and "Units:"

2. Space: A playing surface is required, representing space as a two dimensional surface at a scale of 1:63360000, or, in more familiar terms, one inch equals one thousand miles. The term inches and thousands of miles are used interchangeably in these rules, and refer to distance. Planetary templates may be made as discs on this scale also.

...

4. Units: Starships and space vehicles are individually represented by spacecraft miniatures, or (if necessary) by counters or markers. Because spacecraft miniatures are almost certainly oversize when compared to the scale in use, each such craft should be marked with a spot to designate the exact true nature of the ships in play.

Throughout Book 2, the term "miniatures combat" is repeatedly used as a synonym for "starship combat," suggesting that, as original conceived, starship combat was in fact a kind of "sub-game" within Traveller and a miniatures-focused one at that.

Chaosium on Minis

My 1980 printing of Basic Role-Playing (which is 16 pages long) includes the following section, entitled "Figures and Focus:"

Basic Role-Playing can be played as a strictly verbal game, as you can see from the example about the farmer's child coming to the big city. But many games go farther than this, and play with miniature figures and a battleboard.

Focus is always useful, for all the players can then weave their imaginations into the framework. For instance, setting up a marching order for a party of Adventurers to travel overland shows which characters will be in a position to speak to each; this may be significant if a character must choose one person out of many to aid.

Aiding rules interpretations is an excellent reason for using figures. When the figures are on the table, it is possible to see that your friends are blocking the field of fire your bow might have, or it will show which characters are first assailed by giant wasps striking from the flank, or how long it will take for one character to aid another. With figures, measurement provides answers to "My guy was supposed to be here," and "Where is the elephant?"

Even a few props will provide drama. A large ruin can be constructed with childrens' plastic construction blocks. A bit of scrounging unearths railroad props, cake decorations, weird things from hardware bins, and so on. Styrofoam packaging can be carved to different shapes. A few HO trees, some toy fences, and a large rock will turn an otherwise lifeless melee setting into intriguing opportunities for deployment and use of special skills.

Figures are commonly 1" high led miniatures. These may be purchased at many game and hobby stores or ordered through the mail. Some manufacturers have published attractive cardboard figures, and many people make good use of the cheaper and more readily available plastic toy figures. Preferences and pocketbooks have a large influence on what is used. Remember that no one is likely to have every varied monster or person type called for in a game, and that it is common to substitute something. In any case, figures are recommended.

With some variations to the quoted text, this section has appeared in every edition of Call of Cthulhu since 1981, including the current edition for sale from Chaosium.

The second edition of RuneQuest, meanwhile, includes a very brief discussion of minis under the heading "Other Playing Aids" and says simply:

TIN/LEAD OR PLASTIC FIGURINES (These are optional, but give the play some focus and help settle arguments over who was where. We recommend 25 mm miniatures as the best all around size.)

Section 1.4.3 of Stormbringer is entitled "Use of Miniatures" and says this:

There are an enormous number of fantasy miniatures (small figures cast from lead) available in the game and hobby stores. Many FRP players choose to paint one or more miniatures to represent their characters, and to use these figures to get a picture of where the characters are in relationship to each other. Some GMs are so prepared that they have miniatures of the monsters ready for the combats. Use of miniatures adds color and an added degree of realism to the game, but requires quite an additional investment in time and money by the player. Whether you use miniatures or not is your choice (Ken St. Andre doesn't; Steve Perrin does.). It is likely that a line of Stormbringer miniatures will appear sooner or later.

Ringworld follows RuneQuest in having only a small section devoted to minis under the title of "Play Aids."

Metal figures are frequently used to represent explorers and other characters. If you lack metal figures, the box includes a sheet of paper explorers in various poses.

This is interesting, because, once upon a time, most Chaosium boxed games included a sheet or two of paper cut-out "minis," with additional ones being included in referee's screens and other products. The first edition of Call of Cthulhu certainly did, as did the first edition of Stormbringer. I don't believe I've ever seen such things for RQ but I could simply have overlooked them. Regardless, I think it's intriguing to note that Chaosium's RPGs throughout the 70s and 80s were all extremely friendly to the use of miniatures, including games like Call of Cthulhu, which isn't a RPG one normally thinks of as having much connection to the wargaming roots of the hobby (though, to be fair, there have always been CoC minis available for the game -- I even have some).

When Players Attack

I think by now it's pretty well established that, in a sandbox-style campaign, referees need to be prepared for players wandering off to do something or go somewhere you hadn't expected. Judicious use of random tables, swiping ideas from pre-made modules, and good old fashioned quick thinking all help in this regard, as does jotting down germs of ideas to which you can turn for inspiration all help in this regard. I've used all of these techniques in my Dwimmermount campaign and there are many others too, depending on how much preparation the referee is prepared to put into his campaign. (I veer toward a very low-prep style, so nearly everything my players do unexpectedly is met with an extemporaneous response rather than something I'd thought deeply about beforehand, though there are exceptions)

A question I don't often see discussed, though, is how to deal with players who show complete disinterest in what you've placed before them. Even diligent, well-prepared sandbox referees (i.e. not me) have limits to how many lairs, encounters, clues, rumors, treasure maps, and hooks they can place before the players. After a certain point, a referee is being reasonable to expect that at least one of the things he's created will generate some interest in his players and thus provide a segue to adventure.

I suppose I've been lucky in that I've never encountered such intransigence from my players, but I have observed it in action several times. In most cases, the players are not so much disinterested in the obvious options placed before them but rather unhappy that the options placed before them all seem to take them to the same place. In my experience, players dig in their heels when it looks like the all their choices are false ones intended to lead them back toward something the referee really wants them to do see or do. I recall one memorable failed campaign where the characters became so unhappy with an NPC whose answers were so clearly designed to get them to take up a course of action they didn't like that they trapped him, along with many other innocent bystanders, in an inn and burned the place down. So great was the players' unhappiness that even the player of the paladin looked the other way while his comrades committed mass murder.

In the Dwimmermount campaign, there was only one thing I planned extensively beforehand and that was the mystery behind the cult of Turms Termax. In planning the game, I'd hit upon an idea I really like and thought would make a great MacGuffin, something that would encourage the players, through their characters, to delve more deeply into both the dungeon and the world of which it's a part. To my pleasure, it's largely worked and, while I continue to add and subtract elements from my original idea in response to events in our sessions, the core idea has remained the same.

Now, if the players had not responded as I'd hoped they might, what would I have done? I can't say for sure, because, as I've said, I've never experienced a case where the players wholly rejected what I set before them. I'd like to think, though, that I'd either have reworked my idea so that it'd have become more attractive to the players (this is a practice I've used before) or that, if they really demonstrated an utter disregard for the mystery of Turms Termax, I'd have dropped it and found something else to engage their interest.

The willingness to drop elements from a campaign (or at least diminish their importance) is, I think, an important trait in running a successful old school sandbox campaign. No matter how good I think my ideas are, it's ultimately the opinions of my players that matter most. If they're not interested, there's little to be gained -- and much to be lost -- by forcing something on them. I try to remember that ideas are cheap, but player interest is often priceless. For some, it can be a hard lesson to learn, but, once understood, it more than repays the time and effort spent acquiring it.

A Personal Favorite

I'm sure everyone has a favorite Frank Frazetta painting, the vast majority of which I'll wager depict Conan. I'll be honest and admit that I'm actually not a huge fan of Frazetta's Conan pieces, which is why my personal favorite is one I've posted here before -- his A Princess of Mars.

I'd make a very poor art critic, so I can't go on at length about the technical brilliance of this illustration and why it makes it worthy of approbation. I can only say that I like this painting, which nicely captures the essence of Burroughs's characters and stories in a way that appeals to me. In the same way that a lot of people think of Frazetta's Conan when they imagine the Cimmerian, I think of Frazetta's John Carter and Dejah Thoris when I think of these characters. No other illustration transports me to my childhood adventures on Barsoom the way this one does and that's my sole criterion for my appreciation of it.

RIP: Frank Frazetta (1928-2010)

Al Harron over at The Cimmerian is reporting that legendary painter, Frank Frazetta, perhaps best known for his illustrations of Conan and John Carter of Mars, is dead at the age of 82. Frazetta's artwork will forever be iconic. His loss is a great one and another sad milestone for fantasy fans who came of age in late 60s and 1970s. He will be missed.

The Whole Wide World

I'm going to take a break from my usual Monday installment of "Pulp Fantasy Library" and instead talk about the 1996 film, The Whole Wide World, starring Vincent D'Onofrio and Renée Zellweger.

The film is an adaptation of One Who Walked Alone, a 1986 memoir by Novalyne Price Ellis, who met Robert E. Howard in 1933 and spent much time with him between 1934 and 1936. Ellis became one of Howard's friends, despite their differences in personality and temperament. Ellis is often described by some as Howard's "girlfriend" and I suppose the term is apt enough, provided one doesn't read too much into it. She and Howard would often go out together, but, at least on Howard's part, there seems to have been little expectation that this arrangement was a prelude to something more permanent. Nevertheless, the two shared a close friendship while she was living in Brownwood, Texas and teaching in Cross Plains, where REH was living with his parents.

Ellis wrote her memoir in part to set the record straight about her friendship with Howard and to present a clearer picture of the man she knew for three years. She believed that both had been misrepresented by L. Sprague de Camp -- you knew he'd make his appearance somewhere, didn't you? -- in his biography of Howard, Dark Valley Destiny. Unsurprisingly, One Who Walks Alone is well regarded by the new generation of Howard scholars, who've worked hard over the last several decades to paint a fuller picture of REH than the mad, mother-obsessed misfit that De Camp and his acolytes have offered up to the world for so long.

That's not to deny that Robert E. Howard was a "tortured" individual who had difficulty "fitting in," facts superbly portrayed in The Whole Wide World. Vincent D'Onofrio vividly evokes Howard, his speech patterns, his mannerisms, his walk, and, most importantly of all, his volatile genius. There's no question that D'Onofrio's REH is a misfit; he certainly doesn't fit in and there's a part of Howard that seems to revel in this fact. He enjoys standing apart from the crowd, whom he often holds in some contempt for their lack of imagination and small-mindedness. At the same time, one gets the sense that another part of Howard realizes that standing apart from the crowd is a recipe for loneliness and perhaps even despair, particularly for a young man already given to "black moods," as he called them (and with which he imbued his most famous of characters).

Renée Zellweger's Novalyne Price -- Ellis is her eventual married name -- is a college student and school teacher with aspirations of being a writer. Consequently, she wants to meet Bob Howard, who was known to be a successful pulp writer, and was a close friend of her former boyfriend, Tevis Clyde Smith. Not long after meeting, the two of them spend an increasingly large amount of time together, to the mutual disapproval of Novalyne's own friends, who think REH is crazy, and Howard's mother, who both relies on her son for assistance and wants him to devote himself more fully to his writing.

It's important at this point to say a few words about Hester Howard in relation to the film. While I would say that The Whole Wide World goes a long way toward portraying the complex nature of the bond between REH and his mother, certain elements of it could be easily misinterpreted as pure fact. One must remember that the movie is told from Novalyne's point of view, so there are details and nuances she doesn't see or understand. To her, Hester Howard seems to be an obstacle in her friendship and possible romance with REH, as Bob is intensely devoted to his mother and she to him, often resulting in his having to cancel dates or being out of touch for long stretches of time, while he tended to her (she was suffering from tuberculosis, among other ailments). His devotion is thus a combination of filial obligation and appreciation for his mother's encouragement of his literary career. Howard said that he felt Conan stood behind him as he wrote the stories of his adventures, but it's just as true to say that Hester Howard stood behind him, as the movie makes clear.

There are many, many aspects of the film I could praise (including its cinematography, which is something I rarely notice in movies), but, ultimately, it's seeing Robert E. Howard as a living, breathing human being that is its greatest triumph. Whether he's shadow boxing down the streets of Cross Plains, reading aloud -- and loudly -- from rough drafts of his latest yarn, or quietly discussing literature, Howard comes across as a real person rather than the caricature De Camp made him out to be, a caricature that, sadly, is still too often treated as the whole story. As De Camp would have it, all the genuine human complexity of his life is instead boiled down to "that crazy writer who killed himself."

On the subject of Howard's suicide, the film, I think, does an excellent job. Some might object to the fact that it occurs off-screen and is not obviously foreshadowed (the latter fact being the more objectionable, as Howard talked of suicide for years beforehand), but I think the decision was a wise one. The surest way not to make the manner of Howard's death the central fact of his life -- let alone "the key" to understanding him -- is to treat it as an abrupt, even unexpected event, which it probably was to many people who knew him. Anything more would be to acquiesce to the "REH is crazy" interpretation of his life that this film does so much to combat. Instead, Howard's suicide is merely one fact of his life, the final one certainly, but not the only one and definitely no more central to his life than were the suicides of, say, Ernest Hemingway or Clark Ashton Smith's mentor, George Sterling -- just as it should be.

While not without its inaccuracies and outright fabrications, The Whole Wide World is nevertheless a good film, perhaps the best film ever made having anything to do with Robert E. Howard or his literary creations. It's a pity that it's not better known, as it's accessible, well-acted, and beautifully made, making it the perfect way to introduce those unfamiliar with Howard to his life and works. I highly recommend it.

BRP Help

So, deep into my explorations of Chaosium's old Basic Roleplaying-derived games, I'm once again in need of help in trying to find a couple of items.

1. The Ringworld Companion for (obviously) the Ringworld RPG. I already own the boxed set and love it (which is odd, given that I'm actually not that big a fan of either Larry Niven's writing or of the Ringworld series of books). As there was only ever one supplement for the thing, I'd like to snag for completeness's sake.

2. Hawkmoon. Much as I love the Stormbringer RPG, I'm not actually a huge fan of the the Elric stories (seeing a pattern here?). I like them well enough and think there are some terrific ideas in them, but, when it comes to Moorcock I much prefer his Tragic Millennium tales. I've never actually seen the RPG based on these stories and I'd very much like to get my hands on one.

As usual, if anyone has a lead on one or either of these at a reasonable price, let me know. The odds of my being able to use either of them any time soon is small, so there's no urgency to this request for help. However, I would like to obtain them if it's at all possible, so any assistance anyone can render is appreciated.

Words of Wisdom from Dr. Holmes

A final word to the Dungeon Master from the authors. These rules are intended as guidelines. No two Dungeon Masters run their dungeons quite the same way, as anyone who has learned the game with one group and then transferred to another can easily attest. You are sure to encounter situations not covered by these rules. Improvise. Agree on a probability that an event will occur and convert it into a die roll – roll the number and see what happens! The game is intended to be fun and the rules modified if the players desire. Do not hesitate to invent, create and experiment with new ideas. Imagination is the key to a good game. Enjoy!

--J. Eric Holmes, Basic Dungeons & Dragons (1977)

RIP: J. Eric Holmes (1930-2010)

A couple of months ago, I remember reading rumors that Dr. J. Eric Holmes, editor of the 1977 Dungeons & Dragons Basic Set had died, but, so far as I know, no one was able to confirm this as fact. Yesterday, the rumors were confirmed by Allan Grohe in a post on Dragonsfoot, where he relayed information he'd received from Dr. Holmes's wife. According to this information, Holmes died on March 20 as the result of another stroke. I recall that he'd been in ill health for some time, being unable to attend at least one convention where he was to be feted as guest of honor because of a previous stroke.

This is sad news, not merely because Holmes was an important figure in the early days of the hobby (as well as an enthusiastic devotee of Edgar Rice Burroughs and other pulp fantasy authors), but also because it was through the Holmes Basic Set that I was introduced to Dungeons & Dragons. Unlike the little brown books (which I never owned till much later) or the Moldvay Basic Rulebook (which was released after I was already playing), the compact Holmes Basic book -- the "blue book," as it's sometimes called -- is what drew me into the hobby before I even had any idea what I was getting myself into.

Even now, three decades later, I look on that Basic book with great fondness. Without it, I doubt I'd be here today, writing this. It's a terrific little volume and a testament to the talents of Dr. J. Eric Holmes, who turned the confusing and often-contradictory texts of OD&D into something a little less confusing and contradictory -- at least enough that one precocious 10 year-old could make his first steps down the paths to a lifelong hobby.

Requiescas in pace, Dr. Holmes.

To Clarify

Based on the comments yesterday, there seems to have been a little confusion regarding my Fridays Unplugged initiative. The idea behind it was that I'd personally shut my computer off and not use the Net in any capacity, so that I'd be less distracted and could get other things done. In the comments to the original post, someone suggested I make a single post on Friday (in advance) that would pose a question for regular readers to discuss amongst themselves in my absence, hence yesterday's "Open Friday" posting, which I actually wrote Thursday and postdated so it'd appear while I was offline.

I'm only just now starting to wade through the comments and emails I did get while I was away from the keyboard, so please be patient if you're expecting a response to anything from me. I found the time away very productive (I got to work in the garden and catch up on some other household chores, in addition to reading things I'd been meaning to for a while) and, above all, relaxing, so I plan to continue with the experiment in the weeks to come.

Briefly scanning the comments, I see lots of interest in an old school Wild West game à la Boot Hill. Being a big fan of Westerns, that's something I can definitely get behind. Indeed, it's something I'm already working on, albeit slowly. The working title is Saloons & Shootists and it's far from being ready to release for playtesting just yet, but, when it is, you can be sure I'll announce it here. Time permitting, I may talk about it a bit next week, but we'll see.