Merry Christmas!

Hidden Details

Because of my post about the limited pop cultural footprint of Dungeons & Dragons as a game, several readers pointed me toward the image below, which I've enlarged as much as I could. It's a still from the 1986 Jim Henson-directed, George Lucas-produced, and Terry Jones-penned fantasy movie, Labyrinth. 

In case it's not clear from the image above, there's a copy – seemingly still in shrinkwrap – of the 1981 David Cook/Steve Marsh Expert Set on a bookshelf in the film. I've admittedly not seen the movie recently, but I suspect this is a blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment rather than something that's given any prominence. Certainly, no one in the movie plays D&D or even references it in any way, so I'm not at all convinced that it's particularly relevant to the point of my earlier post. I imagine it's more likely a case that someone on Labyrinth's production team thought the box "looked cool" and then placed it on the set. I doubt anyone before the advent of high-resolution home video even noticed it; I certainly didn't.

I wouldn't be surprised to discover that there are other movies and TV shows from the 1980s that feature, as background details, Dungeons & Dragons and RPG-related paraphernalia. However, I don't believe their number would be very large, or else they'd be better known. I know that, when I was a kid, I made a big deal out of even the flimsiest connections to my beloved hobby. If there are more instances like this out there, they must be very well hidden indeed.

Gygax on a D&D Movie

In issue #13 of Polyhedron talks briefly about the status of a supposed Dungeons & Dragons movie. Three years earlier, the topic comes up in an interview with Gary Gygax in the September 1980 issue of Fantastic Films. What he has to say is actually quite interesting, especially in light of my own feelings about a D&D movie.

Reading this, two things stand out to me. First is Gygax's reference to The Hobbit as a good template for "a fantasy quest." That's no surprise really, since Gygax was quite open about his enjoyment of The Hobbit (in contrast to The Lord of the Rings, which he found dull). Still, it's additional fodder for the never-ending discussion the extent of Tolkien's influence over D&D, if that's something you enjoy. Second is Gygax's accurate assessment of his ability to write dialog, which suggests a level of self-awareness lacking in many creators – not that it stopped him from trying his hand at fiction writing anyway.

Khlûl'-hloo

 ... the word is supposed to represent a fumbling human attempt to catch the phonetics of an absolutely non-human word. The name of the hellish entity was invented by beings whose vocal organs were not like man's, hence it has no relation to the human speech equipment. The syllables were determined by a physiological equipment wholly unlike ours, hence could never be uttered perfectly by human throats ... The actual sound – as near as human organs could imitate it or human letters record it – may be taken as something like Khlûl'-hloo, with the first syllable pronounced gutturally and very thickly. The u is about like that in full; and the first syllable is not unlike klul in sound, hence the h represents the guttural thickness. 

Thus spake H.P. Lovecraft in his letter to Duane W. Rimel (July 23, 1934), regarding the proper pronunciation of the Great Old One, Cthulhu. 

Polyhedron: Issue #15

Could the cover of issue #15 of Polyhedron (December 1983) by Keith Parkinson be any more 1980s if it tried? Like most recent issues, the illustration depicts a character from the "Encounters" feature, in this case an 8th-level Dungeons & Dragons fighter named Edrie Solo. Edrie is the player character of Randy Solo (no relation), who was the second-place winner of the RPGA membership drive announced all the way back in issue #3. His prize included an illustration of his character by his favorite artist (Parkinson), as well as a brief scenario involving her, written by James M. Ward. My teenage self thought that was a pretty cool prize – and it is.

The issue marks the department of Kim Eastland as publisher of Polyhedron, a role he took over from Frank Mentzer about a year and a half prior. Eastland is, for me anyway, one of the more mysterious members of TSR's staff. I remember his name, but, until I started re-reading Polyhedron, I don't think I could have told you what he did at the company. Looking back over his credits, he wrote or contributed to a number of modules for TSR RPGs throughout the '80s, though, as I said, until I made the effort, I don't think I could have recalled any of them. That probably says more about my aging memory than it does about him.

Issue #15 also marks the end of the RPGA catalog as part of Polyhedron. Apparently, like me, many readers felt that it took up too many pages that could have been more profitably used for gaming content. From this point on, all RPGA merchandise was sold exclusively through the Dungeon Hobby Shop in Wisconsin. I remember this shift, because I suddenly started receiving a copy of the DHS catalog in the mail a couple of times a year. I adored the catalog, because it included both gaming products I'd never heard of before and those I of which I had heard but never seen in the wild. I wish I still had my copies, because I suspect they'd be a treasure trove of information and nostalgia.

The letters page is mostly ephemera, but one letter and its response stood out:

While I don't doubt the sincerity of the response, I nevertheless find it odd, because, so far as I can recall, no other periodical, then or now, includes copyright or trademark symbols when printing the name of a product that's under legal copyright. As a practice, it's something I only ever recall seeing in TSR's '80s-era magazines and publications. I really can't fathom who advised TSR to undertake this approach, because it's absolutely obnoxious.

"Dispel Confusion," as always includes a wide variety of questions about all of TSR's roleplaying games. The only one that really caught my attention was the following, since it pertained to a favorite adventure of mine.

As I stated in my original retrospective post about Murder in Harmony, its central mystery is difficult to unravel, but it's far from impossible. I find it amusing that someone actually bothered to write into Polyhedron, hoping that author Mark Acres would confirm the identity of the murderer.

"The AD&D Game Exam" by Philip Meyers is a reprint of an article that originally appeared in issue #47 of Dragon. Polyhedron editor Mary Kirchoff mentioned earlier in this issue that she'd be reprinting articles from Dragon that would otherwise never seen reprinting in, say, The Best of Dragon anthologies, no doubt in order to find more material to fill the 'zine's pages now that the RPGA catalog had been removed. The exam presented in the article is pretty tough, bordering on the obsessive in my opinion. I consider myself pretty knowledgeable about AD&D, but many of the questions asked here are beyond my feeble intellect. 

"Do It Yourself" by Roger E. Moore tackles solo adventuring in AD&D. Like all of Moore's articles, this one is pretty good, touching on a lot of matters that are of relevance to its subject. Moore spends time discussing arena combat, dungeon delving, and wilderness adventures as options. In each case, he provides not only ideas for how to proceed but points the reader toward existing tools, like the random tables in the Dungeon Masters Guide, that would be of assistance. He also, wisely, I think, suggests that characters used in a solo campaign should not be integrated into a "regular" campaign, because of the differences in style and outcome. I suspect many solo characters acquired a much more impressive array of magic items, for example, than would be typical in a well-refereed multi-player campaign.

Moore returns with an installment of "Notes for the Dungeon Master" aimed at high-level adventures. Again, lots of solid and useful advice here. Though I rarely had the opportunity to make use of any of his suggestions, I nevertheless recall wishing I could have, because he made high-level adventures sound like fun. I also recall the article for its delightful accompanying illustration by Larry Elmore:

To this day, I make references to Sir Kay Mardt from time to time. No one else seems to know what I'm talking about.

"Mas Day in New Hope" is a bit of Christmas-themed nonsense for Gamma World by James M. Ward. The scenario involves an "X.M.A.S. Unit" – a robotic Santa Claus with a grav sled pulled by similarly robotic reindeer – that's been modified to act as a weapon of mass destruction attacking a peaceful village. As I said, it's nonsense but amusing enough, if you're in the right frame of mind. "House Rules In" by Mike Carr looks briefly at some Dawn Patrol rules variants that players might find useful. Carr notes that house rules are often the test bed for eventual rules changes, so there's nothing inherently wrong with them, so long as all the players are on board with them.

There are two Gangbusters articles in this issue, starting with "The Vesper Investigation" by Antonio O'Malley. This is a short, two-page scenario intended for one to three private investigator characters. Ostensibly an investigation into the disappearance of a young woman's uncle, the adventure turns into more than that – including, possibly, a ghost story. David Cook's "Casin' the Joint" looks at sources of literary inspiration for Gangbusters games, particularly pulp novels. Among those he suggests are the stories of Doc Savage and other globetrotting heroes, like the Shadow and the Spider. Taken together, the two articles point toward an alternate future where Gangbusters broadened its subject matter to include a wider range of interwar subject matter, not just cops and robbers.

"Cash & Carry for Cowboys" by Glenn Rahman is another reprint from Dragon, in this case issue #54. The article is a listing of historical prices for various items not listed in the equipment list for Boot Hill. I love articles of this sort, especially so back before the Internet made it possible to find this sort of information with relative ease. Finally, there's Merle Rasmussen's "College Courses and Vital Statistics," which presents a series of courses Top Secret agents can attend – and their costs and the time required to do so. These courses increase an agent's skills and abilities once completed. I've always liked the idea of characters undertaking training in-game to improve themselves, so this article had defnite appeal for me. I wish I'd had the chance to use it when I last played the game.

Polyhedron continues to transition into something. Based on various comments in this issue, it's clear that, like me, a lot of its readership wanted to see more gaming material in its pages rather than updates about conventions and other RPGA activities. At the same time, it's also clear that the 'zine's staff was not prepared for this shift in focus, hence the reprinting of Dragon articles to pad out its page count. As I recall, the staff eventually gets the balance right and Polyhedron became something quite good and distinctive. How long that process takes is something I'm keen to see, as I continue to re-read these issues from my youth.

The Streets of da-Imer

Last week, I shared part of a larger illustration depicting the Armies of the King-Emperor of da-Imer, as drawn by Zhu Bajiee. I thought I'd follow it up today with part of a tableau depicting some "ordinary" people one might encounter in the streets of the First City.

On the lefthand edge, there's a spice merchant, her head bowed in deference to the noble lady sampling her wares. The lady belongs to the Arta Char dynasty, an ancient lineage that, unlike many others, welcomed Magdor's accession to the Solar Throne and were rewarded for their support. Next, there's a senior priest of Vulas, goddess of commerce and wealth, offering alms to one of da-Imer's many impoverished youths. Vulas is an imported Chomachto deity whose priests have attempted to curry favor with the Ironian population through ostentatious acts of charity (to limited success). The priest depicted here wears a prayer plaque and carries an unlit candle-staff as badges of his office.

Nativity

The funny thing about my involvement with Dungeons & Dragons is that it was actually mother who first brought a copy of the game – the Holmes Basic Set – into our house. She bought it for my father sometime in August or September 1979, because he'd been talking about D&D a lot.  Dad had always been an avid reader and he'd been reading stories about the game in newspapers and magazines. Though I didn't know it at the time, his interest in the game had been sparked by the disappearance of James Dallas Egbert III in August of that year. As my mother explained it to me, she had bought a copy of the boxed set, thinking that Dad would find it interesting. She was mistaken in this, because my father never even opened it. The set, still in its shrink wrap, was then placed in the upstairs linen closet, because that's where lots of items that had no obvious place to put them in our house were frequently stored.

And that's where it remained until the Christmas holidays, when my friend Mike received a copy of a boardgame called Dungeon! Back in those days, it was tradition among my friends to spend our Christmas vacation making the rounds at each other's houses, showing off the presents we'd received and pronouncing judgment over which of all the gifts we deemed the best. That year, without question, the winner was

Dungeon! We played it many, many times and we all agreed that Mike was the victor in that year's "competition." What clinched it for us were the monster cards, which included all sorts of bizarre creatures we'd never heard of before, such as a "black pudding." We found the whole thing faintly ridiculous, honestly, but that very ridiculousness also kept us playing and, like some kind of narcotic, we wanted more.

That's when I remembered the D&D Basic Set in the linen closet, which I then took out and unwrapped. I gleefully took the rulebook over to Mike's house to show it off and we then attempted to figure out how to play the damned thing. I'm not ashamed to say that we failed utterly in our attempts – not that that stopped us from "playing" Dungeons & Dragons anyway. Our early "adventures" were weird things. We used Dungeon! to "clarify" details we didn't understand in the rulebook and, because my boxed set was one of those that didn't include polyhedral dice, we played using only six-sided dice. I even have a dim recollection of using the board game's playing surface – it wasn't really a board – to run an adventure or two.

Eventually, Mike's older brother, who was a surly teen metal head saw us with the Holmes rule book and listened to our feeble attempts to play the game. He'd never taken much interest in us before, except perhaps to terrorize us with his loud music or to punch Mike when he "got out of line." When he saw us with the D&D book, though, he took some measure of pity on us and tried to help us, in his own

condescending way, to play the game "properly." Of course, Mike's brother didn't play D&D by the book himself; he used lots of house rules and variants and so we adopted them as Gospel truths until we knew better. It was nevertheless a strange turning point for us, because never before had Mike's brother ever treated us so nicely. He still beat up Mike, of course, but a bond, however tenuous, was forged through our mutual love of D&D.

I bought the Monster Manual sometime in early 1980, using money I'd received from my grandmother at Christmas. I ordered the book through the Sears catalog and was absolutely captivated – and occasionally frightened – by its contents. I vividly recall the illustration of the Night Hag being particularly unnerving to me. Over the next six months, my friends and I acquired other AD&D books and modules, which we used in conjunction with Holmes – and then Moldvay when it came out the following year – so we probably never played a "pure" version of the game, not that anyone cared. We were having the times of our young lives, creating characters with abandon and inflicting all sorts of monstrous tricks and traps on one another. By popular acclaim, I quickly became

the Dungeon Master. With the rare exceptions of when Mike's brother or father would run us through a dungeon, no one else really took to the role as I did and it's a role I've pretty much had most of my gaming career. I'm not a terrible player, mind you, but my gifts, such as they are, naturally incline me toward refereeing and so it has remained for the better part of the last four decades or so.

Every year, as Christmas rolls around once again, I find myself recalling these events from my childhood. Even today, they're among my fondest memories, because they, quite literally, changed my life forever. There is no way I could have known, in December 1979, that the "weird new game" that my friends and I discovered almost by accident would become the foundation on which I'd build not just a lifelong hobby but also many more friendships. To this day, some of my oldest and dearest friends are those whom I know only because we share a love of roleplaying games. That's why, even though I didn't, strictly speaking, get the D&D Basic Set for Christmas that year, I nevertheless consider it among the best gifts I've ever received.

Seeking Alternatives

An adventurer by Zhu Bajiee

There are four "basic" human character classes in Secrets of sha-Arthan: the adept, the scion, the sorcerer, and the warrior. There's also a fifth class, which occupies a middle ground between the sorcerer and the warrior – a hybrid fighter/magic-user that I've dubbed the adventurer.

The truth of the matter is that I've never been completely satisfied with the name "adventurer." It's very generic and, more than that, its usage for a specific character class prevents my using it as a broad term for all classes, including the non-human ones. Consequently, I'm forever trying to come up with a better name, one that's actually evocative of what the class is, namely, a fighter/mage.

So, I'm turning to my readership to ask if you have any ideas. What would you call a character class of this sort? A coveted Grognardia No-Prize goes to anyone who comes up with a good alternative.

The Armies of the King-Emperor

I'm still working – slowly – on Secrets of sha-Arthan. Right now, I'm in the "chipping away everything that doesn't look like an elephant" stage and, while progress is definitely being made, it's taking much longer than I expected. Some of that is a function of my perfectionism, but some of it also a function of my age. I'm not as given to stretches of manic creativity as I once was. Consequently, I move at a much more languid pace.

Fortunately, Zhu Bajiee has been ably assisting me in this difficult birthing process, providing me with remarkable illustrations that bring my crazy ideas to life, like this one.

This image is part of a larger one that depicts soldiers in the service of the King-Emperor of Inba Iro. In the back, there's a signal-captain, with his distinctive plumed helmet, ceremonial sword, and teshal (trumpet). Standing in front are two heavy infantrymen. The soldier to the left is a Ga'andrin mercenary from Tlar, clad in a sculpted Ironian-style cuirass, augmented with plates. The soldier to the right is an elite Chomachto halberdier and is attired similarly. 

I have come to realize that, as with many creative endeavors, there's no real timetable for the completion of Secrets of sha-Arthan. It'll be done when it's done, no matter how many times I think I can accurately predict a conclusion to my work. So long as I continue to enjoy the ride, I can't really complain.

Polyhedron: Issue #14

Issue #14 of Polyhedron (October 1983) makes an change to the "Encounters" series begun in issue #8. Originally, the series presented wholly original NPCs created by TSR designers for use with one of the company's many roleplaying games. In this issue (and the next), the featured NPCs are the creations of RPGA members – and are player characters from their home campaigns. The first example of this is member Sonny Scott's PC, Swat, and his cave bear companion, Ox, as described by writer Roger E. Moore and illustrated by Jeff Easley.

Contrary to the hoary gamer joke, I really would like you to tell me about your character. Hearing about others' characters is often a good way to gain insights into how they're playing the game. That's why I particularly enjoyed the installments of "Encounters" in issues #14 and #15: they gave me a little glimpse into what others were doing with Dungeons & Dragons at their own tables.

The RPGA Network Scholarship announced way back in issue #3 finally has a recipient: a young man by the name of David Lee Griffith from Aurora, Illinois, who was headed to the University of Chicago to study physics. The scholarship is for $1000. I have no idea how much the University of Chicago cost at the time, so it's difficult to say how significant a scholarship this would have been. Still, I find it notable that TSR offered a scholarship at all.

This issue's "Two Cents" column is by Christopher Gandy, who presents "Views on 'Role' Playing." In his one-page essay, he criticizes how little many players actually play their character as different from themselves. As he suggests:

Next time you or your players roll up a set of characteristics, don them like an actor would his wardrobe and portray someone new, someone unique, someone else. Don't just play at a role-playing game, role play during the game.

The extent to which roleplaying is or should be analogous to acting has long been a vexatious topic in RPG circles. Gary Gygax, for example, once famously fulminated against what he called "amateur thespianism," while other luminaries in the hobby held opinions closer to that of Christopher Gandy. As with many such topics, I don't think there's any single correct answer beyond what everyone at the table prefers, but it's good to be reminded that these questions have been with us for decades.

"Dispel Confusion" now takes up four pages, largely because it provides answers to many more questions about the rules of TSR's roleplaying games. Despite their large number, none of the questions in this issue are worthy of comment – which, to be fair, is pretty typical of these kinds of columns (with the exception of "Sage Advice" when Jean Wells was writing it). 

"The Lone Wolf" by James M. Ward is a Gamma World article devoted to describing a type of character, whether player or non-player character, who "is perfect for balancing the deadliness of an Ancient installation with the power that can be gotten from looting such a place." The Lone Wolf is thus a very potent character with high ability scores and hit points, as well as a sizable arsenal of high-tech devices. His purpose is as a guide and guardian so that PCs do not "loose [sic] heart" and avoid the dangers of the setting's most lethal ruins. I imagine that Ward wrote it to throw a bone to those GW players who balked at how deadly the game can be and wanted a surer means of protection than "intelligence and role-playing skill."

"D&D Name Means More Than Just Modules" is an article about which I have written before. Since I stand by my original comments on that, I'll move on to Roger E. Moore's "Artifacts, Relics, and DM Headaches." This is a solid, three-page article full of thoughts and advice on introducing artifacts and relics – immensely powerful magic items – into a campaign. It's good stuff, with plenty of ideas to consider, including the fact that the appearance of an artifact or relic is sure to bring its possessor to the attention of others who will undoubtedly want it for themselves. Moore's primary point is that an artifact or relic is not just another magic item. While they certainly can be brought into a campaign to good effect, they can also upset things – and not just "game balance" – to such an extent that the Dungeon Master should think carefully before doing so.

I'm going to pass over two one-page articles about conventions, because they're only of ephemeral interest, especially to me, since I've never been much of a con-goers. Much more significant in my opinion is this small blurb placed at the bottom corner of a page:

Talk about a blast from the past! I'd completely forgotten about the existence of the Other Worlds Club at Waldenbooks. This really brings back happy memories for me, since I maintained a membership with the club for years and was an avid reader of its newsletter, Xignals. 

"Ambush on Lossend" is a short, mercenary adventure for Star Frontiers, written by Steve Winter. While nothing groundbreaking, I rather like it for its down-to-earth, "gritty" feel, which reminds me more of something GDW would have produced for use with Traveller than what I'd come to expect for Star Frontiers. Finally, there's "Membership Drive Winners," which highlights three RPGA members, Clyde "Sonny" Scott, Randy Solo, and Steve Lierly, who recruited a large number of people to join the association. The top two winners – Scott and Solo – received trips to GenCon, along with various other rewards, including illustrations of their characters (which, in turn, form the basis of the "Encounters" articles in issue #14 and #15).

Issue #14 is definitely a step down from its predecessor, since it didn't have quite as much gameable material in its pages. Still, there's enough here that it held my attention while re-reading it, which is a decent enough gauge of its overall quality.