I’ve heard this more often lately. A lot of my friends and acquaintances suddenly have a much more open-minded opinion about my hobby now that everyone’s been forced into bored desperation. But one thing I’ve never been is a gatekeeper. I’m always eager to discuss tabletop RPGs with anyone who displays curiosity about them.

“Which system should I play?”

Now, there’s the important question, and it deserves a well-thought-out answer. There isn’t just Dungeons & Dragons. There are tons of popular systems on the market; some are genre-specific or cater to a preferred play style, and some are so amazingly simple or versatile that they can adapt to any story you and your friends want to play out. With tools like Roll20, Fantasy Grounds, etc., it is still totally feasible to play tabletop RPGs even if you and your crew don’t feel safe gathering in person yet. So, for those who have been thinking about it but haven’t gotten their feet wet yet, I’ve decided to run down the pros and cons of a few game systems worth your attention while you consider your options. This will be a multi-part series, and in this first part, I’m gonna bite into three of the rules sets I’ve been using in my two online gaming groups. Two of them are well-known, the third not so much. All three are a lot of fun and I encourage you to look into them beyond the scope of this article if you have interest in tabletop role playing.

Note: I have not provided hyperlinks to anywhere you can buy books, for two reasons. Firstly, reviewers shouldn’t do that without compensation from whoever they do that for, Secondly, if you’re actually interested in any of this, you’ll open a tab and do some Google searches. You’re grown. I may include hyperlinks to sites hosting Open Gaming License content (the parts of some game systems considered “fair use” or “public domain”) but, if and when you decide to buy the books, you do your own shopping and find a deal because this shit can be expensive.

5^th Edition Dungeons & Dragons (the current edition)

Wizards of the Coast

5^th edition (5e) D&D is the culmination of decades’ worth of development. This is the game that started a hobby. Luckily for you beginners, 5e is also both easy to learn and extremely popular among tabletop gamers of all experience levels.

The rules have been written with simplicity and inclusiveness in mind, and the rules set hasn’t been subject to quite as much uncontrolled growth as previous editions. Most of what WotC has been publishing for 5e has been campaign material and adventure modules – stuff meant to save Dungeon Masters work instead of more rules and expansions to keep track of (and worry about game balance because of). You still get to play with all the colorful different-shaped dice and the game still “feels” like D&D to everyone, but the math is kept simple and the rules are just clear enough to allow for easy play. The vagueness can also be a drawback, but in a game like this, the DM will want a little leeway to make rulings on the fly. The action can be as deadly (or non-deadly) as the group’s taste dictates. What’s more, there is a bustling organized-play community (both online and at gaming shops, put on your mask and go, it’s worth it) that can help introduce new players to the game and aid in finding peer groups for more casual play. You don’t even need to invest in the books first. Try it before you spend anything. That’s one major roadblock for potential new players; the game can seem prohibitive when the MSRP for a book is about $50 USD (its one major drawback, and one that it shares with certain other systems).

5e is what I’d recommend as the “first taste” for people curious about the hobby. You’ll at least understand what’s going on after observing gameplay for a few minutes. It’s also easy to try out being Dungeon Master; 5e’s Dungeon Master Guide is actually a guide instead of just a collection of data, something that sadly cannot be said of that book in earlier editions of the game. “Approachable” is the keyword here. If you find yourself craving “crunchier” rules that allow for more customization, or just want a ton more to choose from on either side of the DM screen… cut your teeth on this first and then try something like Pathfinder. However, if you like the idea of a rule set whose fully intended purpose is to stay as far out of the story’s way as possible, 5e is a fantastic choice.

Pathfinder 1e

Paizo

Pathfinder, easily the most option-rich (while still playable) tabletop system in the fantasy genre, is so customizable and adaptable that it’s not even that firmly glued to that genre if you don’t want it to be. Among what I’d call intermediate tabletop gamers – those who want more substance than 5e D&D offers but who don’t want to get out their calculators to play fucking Battletech – Pathfinder 1e is the go-to system.

As a player, you can build just about anything with these rules if all of the splatbooks (books containing expanded or new rules) are allowed; witches, psychics, fist-fighting lizard people, half-elemental martial artists, even gunslingers or magical androids… and that’s just some of what I’ve seen and done. Pathfinder is based on the 3.5 edition of D&D’s core rules, which were also very customization-friendly but needed a streamlining overhaul. That’s exactly what Paizo did.

For those new to Pathfinder, I offer this advice: if you have more experienced Pathfinder players in your play group, ask them for advice about building characters. While 5e D&D makes it hard to come up with an unplayable character, making haphazard character-building choices in PF can lead to you not really enjoying yourself if the rest of the group has successfully put together “optimized” builds. This is a more involved and intricate system, but the math and mechanics are still easy to pick up and will still seem reasonable when you witness them in real time play.

PF 1e’s only other major drawback, which mostly affects those who are still getting used to it, was best described by one of my fellow players as “analysis paralysis.” This is also referred to as “embarrassment of wealth.” There are so many choices, options, races/classes, etc. that it can hang you up if you aren’t used to swimming through it on your own. Do not be overwhelmed; ask for advice. While PF takes a little time to warm up to, it is a lot of fun and lets players really open it up and take it out on the highway in terms of creativity once they’re familiar with it.

Iron Heroes

Monte Cook/Malhavoc Press

Another cleaned-up iteration of D&D’s 3.5e rules, Iron Heroes is designed for low-magic play with an emphasis on action-packed combat and a “sword and sorcery” feel reminiscent of pulp fantasy like the works of Fritz Lieber and Robert E Howard. In fact, I currently run a campaign using this rule set that is based heavily on Howard’s Conan stories, and this system is beautiful for that type of thing.

Combat is the focus of Iron Heroes, and every character class reflects its own general approach to murdering your foes. You can be clever, brutal, sneaky, versatile, you name it. The exception is the Thief class, which places far more emphasis on indirect problem solving (social manipulation, scheming, etc.) but still manages to hold its own in a fight. Magic-using characters are typically used as villains in campaigns using these rules, and almost never permitted as player characters.

Unlike many fantasy systems out there,armor doesn’t serve to negate a hit in combat. It instead helps mitigate damage taken. In exchange, characters’ defensive capabilities are directly tied to a class-based bonus. I mean, take Conan for an example: the dude is rarely depicted wearing armor, and tends to stay alive and relatively unhurt due to his sheer rippling badass battle prowess. You are all warriors in Iron Heroes; it’s just that “warrior” is more broadly defined and allows for a a lot of different play styles. A token-based system allows for great deeds of martial heroism without magic, and a multi-tiered system of “feats” (custom ability trees meant to reflect different sets of tactics) enable characters to specialize or generalize while playing around with the elaborate-but-sensible combat rules. There is a lot that goes into Iron Heroes, but it is easy for players to unpack as they go and mostly fits in the one book (though a Player’s Companion is available with a few expanded options). Game Masters will find the last chapters of the book very enlightening, especially the guidelines for adapting material from other d20 System sources (3.5, etc.). My favorite thing about Iron Heroes is that you really only need the Core Rulebook and a touch of creativity to make a really fun world for your swordsmen, amazons, archers and ruffians to explore (and paint red with the blood of their foes).

If your group wants to capture that gritty, raw feel of things like the Conan Saga or even Game of Thrones, this system is worth looking into. It’s a great system if you try other fantasy stuff and you discover that you enjoy the feel of a trusty sword-arm over the sometimes overwhelming flash of spells and sorcery.

In the next installment, we’ll examine a few systems that branch out from standard fantasy into other genres. You’ll likely get a video game-related article in the meantime. Everyone keep your heads up, stay sane and safe, and most importantly, stay retro.

Special thanks to Jonah Skrove (whose own works deserves a look), Zach Copic, Ben Pearce, and Quentin Walker.

Games aren’t necessarily electronic or even mechanically complex. We talk a lot about classic video games here, but the tabletop gets sorely neglected, and I aim to correct that. A poll or two, along with the resurgence of board games and the retro-hipness of D&D placing it back in the nerd limelight, has led me to try something new for 2020. Yes, it’s an excuse to write about D&D, but I will also discuss classic board games and other unplugged entertainment from the 80s and 90s. The focus will primarily be on products/topics from that era, although games that capture that same spirit or theme may be discussed regardless of when they were published.

For my first sojourn into this new analog realm, I will stick with a topic both comfortable and familiar to me: Dungeons & Dragons. However, I won’t be writing about the game’s current (5^th) edition or even my favorite (2^nd edition “Advanced”). Today we’re going all the way back to the first official published version of the rules, which was derived from wargaming rules and printed in plain white booklets by E. Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson. The original wargame was called Chainmail, and was used by the Castle & Crusade Society, a gaming group that included Gygax and Arneson. D&D grew from the idea that a fantasy wargame could be scaled down to focus on one Fellowship-of-the-Ring-style group of adventurers, plumbing ancient “dungeons” for treasure while fighting to survive the creatures and traps within. Arneson had much more to do with the idea itself, having written a campaign for his Twin Cities gaming club. Gygax did his best to organize, structure, and fill in gaps. The “end result” is something that in 2020 would most likely be considered “trash” but at the time of its 1974 publishing was a brand new game… a brand new type of game. These paper booklets and the rules within planted a seed that grows to this day, despite ups and downs, Satanism scares, several changes in ownership, and the fact that it requires more effort than Madden or Netflix.

A far cry from the modern product, the original form of D&D is barely playable, but that doesn’t stop it from holding a place in many an old nerd’s heart. Original D&D is uncompromising, unforgiving, and seemingly unfinished… but we will cover these original books in a series. First, let’s dive into Book I: Men and Magic!

This booklet (allegedly) contains all the info and rules players need to create their heroes and play the game. The introduction starts off with Gygax almost sounding relieved that we’ve purchased the product, half-admitting the rules aren’t finished and flattering us for buying the book in nearly the same breath.

The book also contains some incredibly questionable art; it must be assumed that this was published on a pretty punk-rock budget. Even by that standard, some of this art is abysmal. All black & white art is from the booklet.

ORC, BY BILLY, AGE 5

The first section beyond the intro and description of the game itself details the basic options for player characters: which of the three classes (jobs) will you be; and will you be human, or some kind of squashy man, or even a little hey nonny nonny pointy ear man? Let’s break down the choices.

FIGHTING-MAN

This became “fighter” later when the people making this game decided that one day, theoretically, women could conceivably take interest in huddling around card tables in basements pretending to kill goblins. In most fiction, warriors are pretty badass; in OD&D, a fighting-man is the career you choose when none of the others pan out. It’s not a terrible gig, and it’s obviously good for those new to RPGs since the class has only two main assets to track: how close you are to death and how well you’re familiarizing your enemies with it.

Not from the booklet, instead from the cover of Dragon Magazine #109. Artist: Daniel Horne.

PROS: You can end up with more hit points than other characters. You can use armor and weapons the other classes can’t, which seems badass until the exact moment the magic-user gets Fireball. You also have a slightly more favorable “to hit number” on the charts used in-game, so you’re a bit more handy at actually hurting your enemies with weapons. You level up quickly, requiring less experience points than Magic Users and Clerics, who actually have to learn new shit as they get stronger. Lastly, and yes this is built into early versions of the game: once you reach a certain level, you may build a stronghold and tax people as a baron. Sounds exciting if you like doing accounting with fake coins and roleplaying a cog in the miserable wheel of feudalism.

CONS: You can’t cast spells and you can use very few magical items that aren’t weapons/armor. Those hit dice can still roll low, and rules-as-written, you’re stuck with ’em. Your starting gold will be mostly eaten up by whatever armor you buy and it will probably not be great to start with. You’re in the front. You’re the first to get hit, chomped, scorched, stabbed, and shredded. Eventually you are just a politician with a sword when the spellcasting classes start getting powerful.

MAGIC-USER

This is a wizard, but God forbid they just say that. At least “magic-user” is gender-neutral, but the other class (Cleric) uses magic too, so why name this one Magic User? I’ll tell you why: that’s just about all you can fucking do. At first level, you can do it once, with one spell you know, and no one’s likely to be impressed. Playing a MU in any early version of D&D is a lot like trying to knuckle down and make it through med school or start your own small business. It’s an investment of time and an accepted risk in exchange for a great reward later. In this case, the reward is eventually becoming a legend who no one can fuck with because of all the sick spells you know, and the risk is being murdered by a kobold on your first trip outside because you have 2 hit points and can’t wear any armor.

PROS: If it’s magic, it’s entirely your shit. You can cast a number of different-powered spells per day based on your level, which starts out as one parlor trick at the start of your career and can end up with you doing some real reality-bending shit. It’s unlikely that you will be unable to use magic items you find, as most of them can be used by M-Us. At higher levels you can even manufacture magic items and research new spells. The idea here is “limitless possibilities.” M-U spells are versatile, and the more potent ones can kill small armies, make the dead walk, or transport you hundreds of miles in a single step.

CONS: Your possibilities at low levels are pretty fucking limited and you are only allowed to use a dagger to defend yourself. Once you’ve used your spells, it’s 8 hours of study and rest before you get them back. You level up really slowly, and up until you get to maybe 4th-5^th level you’re mostly an unarmored, well-educated liability on any battlefield that doesn’t have something for you to hide behind. Your spells are written in a book and if something happens to that book it’s not like you can just order another one. You’re fucked. Your magic has two convenient holes in it: restoring hit points and removing status effects (poison, curses, etc). You not only can’t wear armor, but unless you’re an elf and take some serious glass-ceiling action on your career (See below), you never can.

CLERIC

This is the class that the one halfway-responsible and long-game-conscious player will choose, and then end up wiping everyone else’s asses for them while playing. Clerics are holy spellcasters, granted a sliver of their deity’s divine power as magic. They can wear armor and shields, but are only allowed the use of blunt weapons (not that bad of a handicap). Clerics can build strongholds like fighting-men can, they’re just doing it in the name of the church so their shit can be more expensive and they can “tax” more. I always knew it was a racket… The other players will see you as a medic and little else, but you’re the only one of the three classes with any healing magic, so you wanted this. With protective and detection spells on the cleric’s list too, it’s a versatile class that can form the core of the adventuring group… even if the fighter thinks he’s in charge, he’s fucking wrong. You routinely make blood stop coming out of everyone. You’re in charge.

PROS: You get the magic that’s better at keeping motherfuckers alive on your team, and while your spell list is narrower than the M-U’s, who gives a shit? Healing, protection spells, purification… you’re the one who’s making sure bad shit doesn’t happen, or if it does, making sure it’s not worse. You can fight reasonably well and don’t have to waddle around in a bathrobe wielding a switchblade like the M-U. Not only do you get spells, but you can also say a big loud magical “fuck you” to the undead when you encounter them; this is pass-or-fail but can either drive the undead away or just nuke them in-place, depending on your power and theirs. Despite being possibly the safest character class to play in every other way, you also level faster than both the others. And that thing you can do to undead? Theoretically there’s no limit to how many times a day you can try it, it just might not work and you can only try it once per encounter.

Again, from a later edition. One of my favorite illos in any RPG book. There’s a lot going on here. Artist: Doug Chaffee.

CONS: Your spells suck at offense, but that’s why you have a big mace. Blunt only does put a pretty hard limit on your ranged weapon options. Depending on how roleplaying-heavy the group or campaign is, you may have restrictions or requirements on your character’s behavior because your character is accountable to a godlike otherworldly being who lends them magic. That’s not just a high-five. You’re expected to further that god’s agenda using your borrowed power, and too many fuck-ups can result in you losing all magic and looking very foolish.

Don’t expect to find all the info in one place, or even in the same general area of the book. The classes are briefly described in this section. The experience point tables are after the equipment section, the charts to roll attacks and saving throws are in their own section, and the spell progression stuff is after that. With minimal forethought and planning, all of that shit could have been in one section. But hey, I didn’t invent the game. I’ve just spent 20+ years referencing chart after chart in the books. You get used to it. Just like you get used to psoriasis or a neighbor’s constantly barking dog.

ELVES, DWARVES, HALFLINGS

Unless you get squirrely and speak up, it’s assumed your character is human. Some Dungeon Masters (referred to in early literature simply as “referees”) didn’t even allow nonhumans. I personally fail to see the point, since all three nonhuman options put severe limits on your maximum class level in exchange for some neat-but-not-game-shaking racial perks. One notable exception is the elf, who can be both a fighting-man and an M-U and can wear magical armor while casting spells. Dwarves and Halflings (which are supposed to be off-brand hobbits) both get marginalized: They both may only be fighters (of max 6^th and 4^th level, respectively). Both, however, get to resist magic etc. as if they were higher level. Playing a dwarf can be good in a big group for their ability to notice traps and secrets underground (this was before thieves were a class, and I’m not sure how they left them out for as long as they did), but there’s almost no point in playing a halfling for four levels just for the better magic defense and the small bonus with missile weapons.

Real long-legged, Mr. Dwarf. Also, is that tree way in the background, is it in the foreground and tiny, or is this actually the biggest fucking dwarf on record?

Side point here. I began playing this game in 2^nd Edition and never understood the idea in early rule sets of nonhumans being limited in their class advancement. No perks to being a human except that there’s no limit on your advancement. Point fucking one, who plays long enough per campaign for that to bear out? No one I know. Point two, if fantasy lit is to be trusted or even lent credence, these fantasy elves and dwarves have lifespans that make us look like gerbils in comparison? I think 3.5 edition D&D is mostly poison to the hobby, but at least it made the races both more egalitarian and more of an interesting choice.

ALIGNMENT

Gygax kept it simple as fuck back in the day: Law and Chaos. Law doesn’t mean just law; it means order, harmony, peace, and ostensibly, goodness. Chaos means not giving a fuck, and that usually extends to morality. There are, of course, nuances and shades of grey within, but you’re not playing this game to write a goddamn dissertation on Immanuel Kant or worry whether you murdered that giant centipede in good faith. Move along.

Any later-edition player or DM is recoiling like a vampire in sunlight just reading this. This is such a bad idea. A poor idea. Piss-poor, even.

ABILITY SCORES

Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Constitution, Dexterity, and Charisma. You generate these by rolling three six-sided dice and recording the scores (3-18) for each ability in order. Yes, in order. Nicer Dungeon Masters let you arrange the scores. Strength has no real hard-and-fast mechanical benefit; in fact, it looks like only Dexterity, Constitution, and Charisma have well-defined game effects outside of affecting earned experience (for some fucking reason a stronger fighter learns better, and I’m sure that makes sense to someone). This section needed (And got, in later editions) extensive work.

Why, yes, two lonely men produced this literature in a basement. How could you tell?

EQUIPMENT

This, sadly, is perhaps the most organized section of the book, and you still have to flip around several tables to get what you need. Starting gold is rolled randomly (three six-sided dice, times ten, for starting money) for each character, so just like in real life, you can suck at being a hero mostly because you can’t afford it. Damage values for weapons are not given because you’re supposed to also have the CHAINMAIL rules handy.

THE REST OF THE BOOK

All the actual “meat” of the info for classes is in this last chunk. So are some vague but seemingly adequate rules fleshing out magical research, as well as the descriptions of the spells for both classes. The descriptions are short – vague enough to allow for long game-stalling debates, but concise enough to let you know quickly what the spell actually does and the effects it has – and the information is packed densely. This was likely a necessity.

For reference, assume “fewer than seven hit dice” to mean “anything that doesn’t deserve its own theme music.” Also for reference, 1 inch equaled about 10 in-game square feet. Sixty square feet of “fuck you, this combat’s over.”

SAMPLE CHARACTER: TOM SELLECK, JR. THE FIGHTING-MAN

We’re going to make a first-level player character from scratch! I’ll be using Notepad for my character sheet since there’s no need for a fancy one, and I’ll be using Roll20 to roll dice so I can show you.

First, let’s go old school rules-as-written and roll these suckers in order:

Well, fuck. Seeing as a score of 9-12 is the equivalent of “average,” it’s safe to say our character isn’t meant for academic or social greatness. Looks like we’re infantry material whether we like it or not. Let’s name this guy Tom Selleck, Jr. and assume he’s going to be a fightin’ man. Seeing as the in-game effects of my stats are technically fuck-all, we’ll use them for an idea of the guy’s personality. Clearly a dimwit with no common sense and problems making friends, Tom has relied on his average physical fitness and his utter absence of self-awareness to make it in the world prior to becoming an adventurer. How he made enough money to buy gear is beyond me, but let’s roll:

Well, at least that seems appropriate. Tom’s gonna have shit gear, like the diaper-clown future corpse he is. Speaking of, how easy is he to kill? Let’s roll that six-sided die, because you roll even your first one in OD&D… but don’t worry, we get an extra hit point because we’re a fighting-man!

Three hit points between ol’ Tom Jr. and the icy black forever-nothing. Just how he likes it, because he’s too fucking stupid to know death is permanent. He thinks all the people he murders are sleeping. He’s gone with that internal narrative since age five. Hey, like it says in the good book: live by the sword, die by the sword in one hit at first level. With that 50 ducats, let’s get our boy some leather armor (15), a shield (10), a battle axe (7), two daggers (6, 3 each), a backpack (5), a week’s standard rations (5), 50′ of rope (1), 6 torches (1), and we are broke.

And since we don’t have extra shit to worry about (or anything to drink out of since I didn’t buy a waterskin), here’s our sheet. Our hero’s all ready to march bravely forth and be slain by a common house cat in one hit.

Tune in for the second part, when we look at the other two booklets, one of which contains monsters. We’ll even have Tom fight something (and probably die). I hope this provides an interesting change of pace, folks… and be sure to send me hate mail if it doesn’t! Stay Retro!