Retrospective: Barbarian Prince

One of the many odd phenomena of the glory days of the hobby was solitaire gaming. Many wargames and even RPGs, such as Traveller, touted their suitability for solo play, which, at the time, I found bizarre. Why would you want to play a game by yourself? Of course, this was back before computer and video games were widespread, but, even after they became more commonplace, I still tended to look on them as different than games that had physical components. Playing a game that had fold-out maps and cardboard counters by yourself struck me as almost perverse, especially since, back then, I never had any difficulty finding players for just about any game I really wanted to play.

Regardless, games like 1981's Barbarian Prince, while not commonplace, were common enough that I often saw them on store shelves. Designed by Arnold Hendrick and published by the miniatures company Heritage USA, Barbarian Prince was a solitaire game in which the player assumes the role of the dispossessed Cal Arath, rightful heir to the throne of the Northlands. The game centers on Cal's attempts to acquire 500 gold pieces in 10 weeks in order to raise an army to defeat those who usurped your place in the Northlands. The game comes with a keyed hex map that is used in conjunction with an events booklet to represent Cal's travels on his quest. In addition to acquiring treasure, the barbarian prince can also engage in combat, explore ruins, meet people, and many other things. There's a remarkable amount of depth to the game and, because of random factors, it's quite possible to play the game many times with each time being different.

On each of the 70 game days available to the player, he can choose to undertake several actions, from traveling to exploring to seeking audience with NPCs and more. Each of these actions takes a certain amount of time and effort and, owing to the aforementioned random factors, none are guaranteed to pay off. It's a bit like playing a mixture of a sandbox hexcrawl and a choose-your-own-adventure book, though it's not as heavily scripted as the latter. It's also a lot more difficult than in most choose-your-own-adventure books I remember reading, since, like many sandbox campaigns, there's no way to be sure that the ruin over the next hill isn't inhabited by foul demons beyond your ability to defeat. At the same time, you really can go anywhere (on the provided map) and do almost anything and Barbarian Prince is noteworthy for the wide variety of actions it covers in a fairly simple ruleset.

If you're the least bit curious about Barbarian Prince, you can download a legal copy for free here. Reaper Miniatures apparently holds the rights to Heritage USA's catalog of games, including this one, and has released them as freeware PDFs. I can't applaud them enough for this, both because they've decided to do this at no cost but also because they've made a classic game of the Golden Age of the hobby available to new generations of gamers. Too many great designs from days of yore languish in limbo because the person or, worse yet, corporation that owns them foolishly believes that they're inherently valuable and thus should only be released if they can find a way to profit from doing so. That's a shame on many levels, which is why Reaper deserves kudos for their actions with regard to Heritage USA's games.

The Articles of Dragon: "Singing a New Tune"

Last week, I said I was going to be starting a new series of posts relating to Dragon magazine. Today, I kick off that series, "The Articles of Dragon." I wanted to do this series because, while I was re-reading this venerable gaming periodical for "The Ads of Dragon" series, I frequently found myself looking over many articles that I remembered fondly from my younger days. Back in ancient times, before the Internet, the monthly arrival of Dragon was an important part of many gamers' lives, as it was one of the main sources of information about the wider hobby. Just as importantly, it was a place where we could read other gamers' ideas, some of which were good enough that we adopted them into our home campaigns.

A good case in point is Jeff Goelz's "Singing a New Tune," which appeared in issue #56 (December 1981) of Dragon. The article presents a single-class bard for use with AD&D rather than the multi-class monstrosity included at the end of the Players Handbook. At the time, never having read Doug Schwegman's original bard from Strategic Review #6 (February 1976), the idea of a bard that didn't require levels in fighter and thief beforehand was nothing short of revolutionary. In addition, Goelz's bard had a high degree of intellectual coherence. For example, his bard could cast illusionist spells in addition to druid spells, which made sense for a class of wandering performers. However, this new bard's selection of both types of spells was limited to those that made sense for the class. No longer, for example, could bards cast healing spells.

Goelz's bard is probably my favorite version of the class. If I ever decided to include them in my Dwimmermount campaign, I'd be sorely tempted to base them on this one. The PHB bard never made much sense to me and, in any event, they were unduly powerful given the archetype they were supposed to represent. I only ever allowed one PHB bard into my campaign back in the day and it did not end well. Later on, I readily used Goelz's bard and it proved a popular option for many players.

My Feeble Skills

One of the projects I want to complete and get out there fairly soon is the first part of my Dwimmermount house rules document. Lots of people ask me about this, but, until recently, I didn't actually have anything I could give people that'd make sense if you weren't me. So, today, I've been playing around in OpenOffice with the document, trying to whip into something intelligible to normal human beings. Here's a capture of one of the pages:

It's nothing brilliant, but it's legible and I did it myself, so I'm not going to complain. And, yes, before anyone asks: it is an ape of the Holmes Blue Book layout. I am nothing if not a hypocrite.

Pulp Fantasy Library: The First Book of Swords

Published in 1983, Fred Saberhagen's The First Book of Swords is, as its name suggests, the first book in a series -- a trilogy, as it turns out -- that is itself a sequel to an earlier series of books, one of which was included in Gygax's Appendix N. Like its predecessor series, The First Book of Swords skirts the line between fantasy and science fiction, though, without the benefit of knowing the novel's deep background, it would like appear to be a (mostly) pure fantasy. That background includes a destructive nuclear war that nearly wipes out the human race in the ancient past and that paves the way for the return of magic and the gods (or so it seems). It should be noted, though, that Saberhagen's approach to magic is very scientific, by which I mean that it's predictable and operates according to intelligible rules. This is a function of its origins in the setting of The First Book of Swords, but it also has consequences for the unfolding of the story he's telling.

That story involves the forging of twelve magical swords by the god Vulcan. As part of some plan whose ultimate end is not revealed, Vulcan intends to place these twelve swords in the hands of human beings. This novel deals with only four of the swords, named Townsaver, Dragonslicer, Coinspinner, and Sightblinder, the first of which is given to a smith named Jord who, along with several other smiths, is chosen by Vulcan to be his assistants in the crafting of these mighty weapons. Of course, Vulcan needs the humans primarily for their blood, which he uses in quenching the blades. Jord is the sole survivor but even he pays a price for his aid to the god. He loses an arm but is gifted with Townsaver, which Jord says is "for me, and for my son after me."

It is Jord's son, Mark, who is the true protagonist of The First Book of Swords. He comes into his own at the age of twelve, when he wields Vulcan's gift to his father, Townsaver, in defense of his home. Unfortunately for him, his actions result in the death of an innocent man, the cousin to a powerful nobleman and Mark is forced to flee for his life with the sword. Thus begin his adventures, where he, in typical fantasy novel fashion, sees many places and meets many people, some of whom stay with him, as he unravels the mystery of not only Townsaver and the other swords, but also of himself and his destiny.

The First Book of Swords isn't great literature by any means, but it has a lot of interesting ideas in it, particularly the relationship of the gods to mortals and the effect that these swords have on events in the human world. The characters themselves are less interesting, being very archetypal, especially to those of us who've read more fantasy stories than they care to count. Likewise, Saberhagen's style is strangely spare, lacking in bombast or romance. Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing is up to each reader to decide.

I've always found it intriguing that Gary Gygax frequently include Fred Saberhagen amongst his favorite fantasy authors. In retrospect, it makes more sense than I'd realized. Saberhagen's magic, as I already noted, is very scientific in character, almost technological, which is very much in keeping with the way magic functions in D&D. Likewise, the twelve swords of this series are potent but idiosyncratic artifacts, as much banes and boons to those who wield them. I wonder, too, if they might have served as the inspirations for the "final word" broadswords introduced in Unearthed Arcana, since this novel came out only a few years before the release of UA and I'd be amazed if Gary hadn't read it.

Seeking Advice

I'm looking for some advice from readers who have experience with simple, easy-to-use desktop publishing programs -- and when I say "simple, easy-to-use," I mean "simple, easy-to-use" for technological incompetents such as myself. The truth is that I have a large number of projects that I really want to get off my plate and out there for others to enjoy, but, to do that, I need to get them laid out in a format suitable for PDF and/or POD printing.

Now, I know many people would offer to lay these things out for me and I appreciate these offers. However, since these projects aren't likely to generate much income (assuming they're even sold rather than just given away), I really feel I ought to lay them out myself. Likewise, there's the fact that, when dealing with volunteers, one can hardly complain about either a lack of follow-through or tardiness in completion, two problems that have plagued past efforts on my various projects. Finally, I like to tweak and to tinker layouts, so I feel it'd be less of a headache for all concerned if I did all the work.

So, with that preamble, what do people recommend? Obviously, I can use programs like word processors and blogging software. I can even manipulate images to a limited extent. Beyond that, I am hopeless. What I want is something that lets me straightforwardly produce pages that might contain a few images, tables, and charts but would otherwise be mostly filled with text. I don't need the pages to be especially clever in their design, though I'd be glad if the program gave me some options for prettifying them as needed. I'm not adverse to paying for the program if necessary, but I'd never turn up my nose at a free program if it otherwise meets my criteria above.

Thanks in advance.

Remembering Dave

During most of my early days in the hobby, Dave Arneson's name was barely mentioned at all. I knew of his existence from the foreword to the Holmes rulebook, but I always wondered why, if Dave had been the co-creator of D&D, his name didn't feature prominently on the covers of more books. Aside from the Blue Book, the only other place I remember his name appearing was in Gary's preface to the Players Handbook. For such an important figure in the history of roleplaying games, it always seemed odd to me that Dave Arneson wasn't better known.

Now, of course, I know more of the story of why Dave was such an enigmatic figure and it's good to see that his role and contributions to the hobby are recognized, at least amongst old school fans. Still, I can't help but wish that this recognition had been wider in his lifetime. That's why I thought it worthwhile to make a point of remembering Dave today, the day of his birth. All of us reading this post owe him a great debt for his imagination, creativity, and enthusiasm for fantasy.

Open Friday: Gaming Disappointments

I mentioned in my post yesterday about how disappointed I was when I finally got a copy of Unearthed Arcana in my hands. I'm not sure that was my biggest gaming disappointment, but it certainly is among my most memorable. So, for today's question, I'd like to ask you about your biggest gaming disappointments. What was the product that you most looked forward to owning and that, upon getting it, you came to regret purchasing? My only stipulation is that you keep your comments to the product itself and its contents, not the writers/designers or company that published it.

The Ads of Dragon: Unearthed Arcana

I have particularly strong memories associated with issue #100 of Dragon (August 1985). Firstly, it was one of the last issues I received as a subscriber. I'd continue to buy issues of the magazine singly till about 1987 or thereabouts, but I often missed them, sometimes for many many months. Consequently, I found myself less plugged into what was happening at TSR and indeed the wider community of the hobby. Secondly, issue #100 came out at the same time as the last "game day" I attended at a local library. These game days had been a staple of my gaming experience since the early '80s. They were where I met other gamers and got exposed to RPGs I might otherwise not have played. After 1985, they just ended and so, too, did my connection to game groups other than my own. Thirdly, this issue appeared just as I was about to start Grade 10, thus coinciding with the break-up of my original game group and the general decline in my regular play of D&D (or any RPG, as it turned out) till the mid-90s.

Finally, there was Unearthed Arcana, an advertisement for which appeared in issue #100:

Unearthed Arcana was a book I'd been expecting for years. I'd read and enjoyed Gary Gygax's "From the Sorcerer's Scroll" columns and often incorporated the new rules he presented there into my campaign. Not all of the rules, of course, but some of them, especially the new spells. So, when UA finally appeared, I was very excited and grabbed the first copy I could find (from a B. Dalton Bookseller, as I recall). Somehow, when all of Gary's new rules were collected together under one cover, they lost the shine seemed to have when presented individually. Taken together, I found myself starting to dislike even those rules additions I'd previously liked. It made no sense and yet that's how I felt.

Unearthed Arcana was thus a huge disappointment to me. It marked the first time that I actively disliked an AD&D hardcover, a feeling made all the stronger by the book's poor editing and poor binding. It was an "emperor's clothes" moment and, in one book, D&D, TSR, and Gary Gygax were lessened in my eyes. It seems silly to say that, in retrospect, but it was true nonetheless. At 14, I was a huge fanboy of all three of them and Unearthed Arcana made me realize how foolish such an attitude was. I continued to buy TSR books after that, of course, but never with the same fervor and certainly with a lot more cynicism about their quality.

So, issue #100 seems a good place to stop this particular series of posts. I could continue, but, since I read Dragon less and less after this milestone issue, I'd also have a lot less to cogent commentary to offer about the ads I'd choose to highlight. Instead, I'm starting a new Dragon-related series next week in place of this one. Look for it on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

An Appreciation of Tramp

Reader Josh Munn pointed me toward this appreciation of the art by David Trampier over at TOR.COM by Saladin Ahmed. Seeing as I consider Tramp to be one of the best illustrators D&D ever got, I find it hard to disagree with the sentiments expressed in the essay. Head on over and give it a read.

Retrospective: Escape from New York the Game

Our hobby has a long history of creating games and other products intended as tie-ins for media properties. I don't have anything against tie-ins per se but experience has taught me that the vast majority of tie-ins are ill-conceived in one way or another. A good example of this is TSR's 1981 boardgame Escape from New York, designed by David Cook and Harold Johnson. Escape from New York (hereafter EFNY) is a good example not because it's a bad game -- it's actually rather cleverly done -- but because it was tied to an R-rated movie.

You'll see that the cover proclaims that the game is "For 2 to 4 Adults, Ages 10 and Up," but, as you may recall, that's a marketing ploy intended to appeal to kids who want to feel older. Here, you're talking about selling a game whose target audience would most likely never have seen the movie on which it was based. I know I didn't see the film until it was released on video cassette when I was a teenager and I doubt I was alone in this regard. Perhaps there were lots of adults who, after seeing the movie, longed for a boardgame based on it, but that seems unlikely to me. Instead, EFNY looks to be an example of a company thinking that the mere fact of licensing a Hollywood property is enough to justify the time and effort put into it. I find myself reminded of Kenner's 18-inch alien action figure, which, unsurprisingly, sold poorly, since almost no kids had seen 1979's Alien.

What's unfortunate is that EFNY is actually a pretty fun little game. I acquired a copy many, many years later when a local toy store was going out of business and was selling off its remaining stock. One of the items they had on sale for next to nothing was an old, unopened copy of this game and I bought it both as a curiosity and because I adored the movie. The mirrors the film broadly in that the goal of the players, each of whom takes on the role of an agent sent by the US government into the Manhattan Island maximum security prison, is to find the missing president or the audio tape he was carrying and to escape alive. Each player begins the game with several equipment cards -- weapons, homing devices, a glider, and a flare gun -- that can be used as aids in their quest. Likewise, the cards pull double duty as hit points of a sort. Whenever a player loses a fight with enemies encountered in the city, he loses a random piece of equipment. When all the cards are gone, the character is killed and the player eliminated.

One of the more interesting aspects of the game were its movement rules. The game map was divided up into areas of different color. Each color represented a movement cost to pass through it. Each turn, a player rolled 2D6 to determine how many movement points he had and then planned his movement accordingly. As the character moved throughout the city, he ran into potential allies or enemies, in addition to acquiring clues that pointed to the location of the president or the audio tape. Each clue card has several possible locations and, once a player acquired two cards that listed the same location, he could make his way there to claim his prize. Of course, other players could do the same and the "true" location of these prizes was determined by whatever player got to where his cards directed him first. To add a further wrinkle to gameplay, characters could ambush one another and steal their possessions.

Escape from New York is a neat little game and enjoyed playing it with my friends. I haven't played it in years, though, so it's possible my memories of its virtues are mistaken. I'm still baffled as to why it was ever made, though. Of all the tie-ins TSR could have been producing in 1981, why this one?