Rules

Advanced Combat

This is the 16th in a continuing series of articles, which reedits house rules for Holmes Basic D&D from 40-year-old game club newsletters. Mentions of house rules are in bold text and followed by a [bracketed category designator].

For rules category descriptions and more about the newsletters, see “About the Reedition of Phenster’s.” For an index of articles, see Coming Up in “Pandemonium Society House Rules.”

Phenster’s Pandemonium Society House Rules is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, incidents, and newsletters are either products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is pure coincidence.

Losing Balance

In the excerpt on critical misses from “Combat Complications” (L’avant garde #49, September 1982), Phenster refers to losing one’s balance in melee. In “Advanced Combat,” three months later, he adds:

Sometimes, especially whenever we're fighting on rough terrain, when we lose our balance there's a chance we might fall down. We have to roll our dex score or less on a d20. Rough terrain is like a field of rubble, a steep slope, or a dungeon floor where stone blocks have been upset by an earthquake or tree roots growing under them. We can't fight from the floor (+4 AC), and it usually takes a turn to get up.

—from “Advanced Combat,” L’avant garde #51 (December 1982)

As “off balance” appears twice in Phenster’s list of possible results due to a critical miss, when using the rule Critical Miss: Lose Next Action [E], consider Balance [P] as a supplement. I put it in the [P] Pandemonium category, because it adds a dice roll to the end of what should be a quick resolution of a combat action. Another option is for the DM to adjudicate, including the fall (or not) in the critical miss result.

Balance [P]

A character who loses balance on uneven ground (e.g. rough or sloping terrain, stair steps) must make a Dexterity check or fall prone.

Prone [E]

A prone character cannot attack, and any attacks on the prone character are made at +4 on the dice. A prone character can stand in one round.

Drawing a Weapon in Melee

“It takes one melee round to draw a new weapon, but one hanging free, or in the other hand, can be employed immediately” (Holmes 21).

According to the rules you can draw a weapon in one round. You can usually only do one thing at a time, but we say you can also draw a weapon while you move, like when we're closing to melee.

—“Advanced Combat”

Draw Weapon While Moving [E]

A combatant may draw a weapon while moving.

Charging and Other Movement in Combat

In the following excerpt, end 1982, Phenster refers to “fully armored” characters, which I assume he gets from Holmes’s Movement Table (9). In Charge [E] below, I translate to any armor, because in 1984 Phenster adds move rates for characters wearing leather armor: In L’avant garde #63 (May 1984), he places “half armored” characters between unarmored and fully armored on the movement table. He also halves the move rates given on the Holmes table.

Phenster does not specify whether a half armored character gets the damage bonus for charging. I defer to Chainmail, which gives the impetus bonus to heavy and armored footmen (17).

Besides Charge [E] and Half Armored Move Rates [E], Maneuver [E] allows a step in melee.

If you are not more than THREE TIMES your melee move distance away from your opponent, you can charge. But it has to be over flat/level ground without any obstacles, and the opponent has to be at least 10' away. If you hit and you are fully armored, you get a +2 bonus on damage from the impetus. And if you slay your opponent, your charge continues and you can attack again if you charge into another opponent, until the end of your charge. Your charge has to be in a straight line.

—“Advanced Combat”

Charge [E]

When an opponent is at least 10' and not more than thrice combat move distance away, a combatant may charge the opponent in a straight line over level terrain. If the attacker is wearing armor, a charge grants a +2 bonus to damage. If the opponent is slain, the attacker continues the charge up to three times combat move distance, engaging subsequent opponents.

Whereas contemporary D&D editions apply the charge bonus to the attack roll, Phenster applies it to damage. One interpretation of Chainmail’s “Impetus Bonus” (17) would do likewise.

Half Armored Move Rates [E]

Characters wearing leather armor or equivalent move normally at 180 feet per turn. They move at 90 feet per turn while exploring, and 15 feet in a combat round.

Flank and Rear Attacks

If you can attack from a monster's flank (90 degrees from its front), you get +1 on the attack. If you come up behind it, you get +2. You're supposed to add another bonus if the monster has a shield and can't use it (like if you're on its right side), but Hazard doesn't mess with that. He just says attacks from behind get +2 on the roll.

You DO NOT get the bonus for flanking if you're less than 90 degrees from the front. If the monster's fighting somebody else and you come up beside it, you might only get one attack with a bonus before it turns to put both its enemies at 45 degrees to its front.

—from “Combat Complications,” L’avant garde #49 (September 1982)

Flank and Rear Attacks [E]

An attack from a flank gains a +1 bonus on the dice; from the rear, +2. Whether the defender wields a shield or no is not considered. Assume that a combatant can change facing (left, right, or about face) on its count in the initiative order or any time immediately prior to an attack.

Defend in Place

Jinx had a good attack roll for once, and he hit the grimpshee with his sword but didn't do any damage. That's how we knew it was immune to normal weapons. So Jinx stepped to one side of the door and defended in place (-4 AC), while Friar Tombs came up with his snake staff, and Phenster Prime threw protection/evil 10'.

—from “At the Gates of Pandemonium,” Paradigm Lost #4 (December 1982)

Full Defense [E]

A melee combatant may forego all attacks and other actions to devote the round to defense, thereby gaining a −4 bonus to armor class. When so defending, only a step is allowed in the round (see Maneuver [E]).

Fighters vs Humanoids

. . . Orcs everywhere—we were surrounded! Mandykin fired her crossbow then drew a sword. I didn't have any spells left, so I took out my dagger to defend my skin. Friar Tombs struck one with his mace. Then it was the Bully's turn. He swung his two-handed sword once and two orcs fell. He swung again and another one went down. Five more swings and all the orcs were dead or ran away. He got so many attacks because he's a 7th-level fighter. If it was 2 HD monsters, like gnolls or lizard men, then it would be 3 attacks.

—“Advanced Combat”

Fighter Multiple Attacks vs Humanoids [E]

Fighters get multiple attacks per round against humanoids. Divide the fighter’s level by the humanoid’s hit dice, drop any fraction. Treat less than 1 HD monsters as 1 HD, and ignore any bonuses to base hit dice. The fighter makes all attacks at once in the usual order of attacks.

Fighter Damage Splatter vs Humanoids [P]

When a fighter slays an undamaged humanoid with one attack, any extra damage is taken by another humanoid, if it is within the fighter’s reach and would be hit by the same attack roll. If the second humanoid was also undamaged and is slain, any remaining damage is taken by another humanoid meeting the same conditions, and so on.

Because it implies the fighter swipes through multiple enemies with a single swing, this rule, for me, feels over-the-top, so I throw it in the [P] Pandemonium category. It can, however, speed up those big combats, and it makes the fighter player feel good.

Hireling and Monster Reactions in Melee

It didn't make any sense that the PCs can decide to run away when the monsters are too tough, but the monsters don't run away when it's plain they're going to be slaughtered. Our NPCs might lose their nerve too, and they might run. Hazard mostly just decides for the monsters and NPCs when their going gets tough. But when he isn't sure, he uses the Hostile/Friendly table from the rulebook to see if the monsters will cut their losses and run. He gives the monsters a number depending on how brave they are. Most monsters fall into the 6 to 8 range. Hired NPCs usually get a 7. For example, kobolds have an 8 morale (Normally courageous), ogres have a 5 (Sturdy), and dragons have a 3. And Clare Brighthelm, a Knight of the Celestial Hart, is Stalwart; she never backs down from a fight.

2: Stalwart, never runs away, never surrenders
3-5: Sturdy, fierce, battle-hardened
6-8: Normally courageous
9-11: Weak of will
12: Coward, always runs away

Whenever the monsters could have a second thought about going on with the fight, Hazard rolls two d6s. If he rolls below the number, the monsters run (or give up if they can't escape). But if he rolls the number or higher, they fight on.

—“Advanced Combat”

Morale [E]

The DM assigns a moral score based on his or her judgment and interpretation of the creature crossed with Phenster’s table. Hirelings begin with a morale score of 7. On a 2d6-roll result lower than the moral score, the creatures flee or surrender. When to check morale is also left to the DM’s discretion.

DMs who find Hazard’s system too haphazard may consult B/X (Moldvay, Cook, Marsh, 1981) for a similar system more fully detailed.

Critical Hits and Misses

This is the 15th in a continuing series of articles, which reedits house rules for Holmes Basic D&D from 40-year-old game club newsletters. Mentions of house rules are in bold text and followed by a [bracketed category designator].

For rules category descriptions and more about the newsletters, see “About the Reedition of Phenster’s.” For an index of articles, see Coming Up in “Pandemonium Society House Rules.”

Phenster’s Pandemonium Society House Rules is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, events, incidents, and newsletters are either products of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is pure coincidence.

Beowulf the Bully charged the last bugbear. He rolled a natural 1 with his two-handed sword, so he missed. Hazard said he stumbled in the charge. He would miss his next attack while he recovered his balance, and the bugbear got to attack him from the flank. The bugbear rolled a 20! That's double-max damage!! The Bully fell dead on the floor with a mace in his face.[1]

—Phenster, from “At the Gates of Pandemonium,” Paradigm Lost #4 (December 1982)

Natural Hits and Misses [E]

A natural 20 always hits; a natural 1 always misses.

Following D&D editions in chronological order, I don’t find this rule in its full form (including both hits and misses) until Molday’s Basic D&D (1981): “…a roll of 20 will always hit, and a roll of 1 will always miss” (B25). We can’t have crits and fumbles without it, so we assume the house rule.

Critical Hits

Critical Hits: Double-Max Damage [P]

On a natural 20, an attack roll automatically hits and does double maximum damage.

Apart from twice maximum damage being a lot, the beauty of this option is that the big moment when the dice comes up 20 is the BIG moment. It happens in an instant. There is no second guessing: “Yeah, well, we’ll see if you confirm…” And no doubling a low damage roll. Because rolled damage, even doubled, is often a let down.

Phenster does not mention whether a Strength or magic bonus is included in the doubling. I would say not: assuming the natural 20 represents an optimal blow, the attacker’s strength is not suddenly doubled, nor does a magic weapon’s power surge.

Critical Hits: Max damage [E]

On a natural 20, an attack roll automatically hits, inflicting maximum damage.

For those who balk at double-max, simple maximum damage also has the benefit of immediacy, while being less likely to end an adventuring career.

Critical Misses

When you roll a 1 for your attack blow, we usually say you drop your weapon and have to draw another one, but it depends on who's the DM. It gets a little boring if it happens more than a couple times in one game. But Hazard has a flair for making stuff up on the spot. Like, you stumble, or your flail gets stuck in the other guy's shield, or something more dramatic. We almost always miss our next turn.

I've tried it before when I'm the DM, but it takes me too long to make something up. So I made a list of all the things Hazard ever did. It turned out that the list wasn't long. It's the details Hazard adds that make the flair. I keep the list handy, and if somebody rolls a 1, I just have to pick something from the list and add some flair.

- Drops weapon
- Weapon stuck
- Breaks weapon
- Over swing (off balance)
- Stumble (off balance, 1 step in random direction)
- Expose flank
- Impaired (penalty on attack OR armor class for 1 round)

—Phenster, from “Combat Complications,” L’avant garde #49 (September 1982)

Critical Miss: Lose Next Action [E]

On a natural 1, an attack roll automatically misses, and the attacker loses the next attack or the next round of action.

I include “next attack” for the case of combatants wielding a lighter weapon and fighters with multiple attacks per round (see Multiple Attacks per Round [E] and “Combat Complications” forthcoming).

Using Phenster’s list, the DM may add details as necessity demands and one’s capability for flair permits.

Critical Miss Immunity [E]

An attacker, who needs a 10 or less on the attack matrix (level/hit dice vs AC), is immune to a critical miss.

My own addition, this rule lowers the chance that a high-level character looks like a bumbling idiot. It takes into account only the attacker’s level versus the defender’s AC. I don’t include bonuses and penalties in the criteria, because often, when the attack roll is high or low, we don’t take the time to add up all bonuses and penalties. By including them in the calculation for critical miss immunity, it forces us to make that calculation, which slows the pace.

Note on Critical Hits and Misses

Statisticians and game designers criticize critical hits and misses for a variety of good reasons. Here I outline the major arguments briefly. The web is mired with more thorough discussion on the topic.2

The base rule is that a 20 always hits and a 1 always misses. Adding additional penalties and bonuses introduces more randomness—therefore more chaos—into combat.

Statisticians warn players that critical hits and misses work against their characters in a number of ways:

  • If we suppose that player characters should have a chance—whether high or low—to win a given fight, then any additional chaos in the system means it’s more difficult to gauge the chance of success.
  • Because there are often more individual monsters than PCs, the latter are more likely to receive critical hits than to deliver them.
  • As fighters advance in level, they get more attacks per round. More attack rolls means a higher-level fighter has more chances to fumble than a lower-level fighter. This works against the game’s basic tenet that characters become more competent as they gain experience.

Game designers agree with the statisticians on the points above. They also balk at additional dice rolls and table lookups. All that takes time, not to mention the dramatic tension is more often broken than held taught.

Most of the statisticians and game designers who make these arguments are adults. In my youth, my friends and I gave little thought to such complicated concerns. The chance to have a dramatic impact on combat far outweighed the chance of bad stuff happening to a beloved player character—if only in our risk-ignorant adolescent minds.

1 To assuage Beowulf’s fans: Phenster tells us later that the party had him raised at the the fortress chapel. Afterward, “Friar Tombs healed his face, but the wound left scars.”

2 In the old school, generally, we talk about critical hits and misses, or casually: crits and fumbles. In later editions, when we start rolling skill checks on a d20, the terms become critical success and critical failure. Adjust search keywords accordingly.

Three Paradigms: Evolution of Ability Score Adjustments and the Prime Requisite Bonus in Old-School D&D

Because the 1981 Basic and Expert were the first D&D rulebooks I read and understood thoroughly, I see earlier editions through B/X-colored reading glasses. For examples, when in the 2000s I got my hands on the original 1974 DUNGEONS & DRAGONS rules, I understood that elves were fighter/magic-users, a magic sword +1 grants a bonus to attack and damage rolls, and ability score adjustments reduce one score to raise another.

The first thing we learn from reading the original D&D rules booklets is that one does not just read the original D&D rules booklets. It’s like casually reading a foreign language. To do so is to comprehend nothing. The OD&D rules must be studied, deciphered, and interpreted.

After struggling with the text, I figured out that, in OD&D, elves are not the fighter/magic-users I was accustomed to1, a sword +1 grants its bonus to the attack roll only2, and—most surprising—ability score adjustments do not, in fact, adjust ability scores.

Within the last example is a paradigm that shifts throughout D&D’s old-school editions.

Complimentary Paradigm

The first instance showing how to adjust the prime requisite makes the point. From the Strength entry under Determination of Abilities:

“Clerics can use strength on a 3 for 1 basis in their prime requisite area (wisdom), for purposes of gaining experience only” (Men & Magic, 10, emphasis mine).

According to the last phrase, the ability scores are not raised or lowered. We must think of the adjusted prime requisite score as a separate entry on the character sheet. If the cleric’s Strength, as rolled, is 14 and Wisdom 12, the player can use 3 points of Strength to raise Wisdom by 1. The adjusted prime requisite score is then 13. The Strength and Wisdom scores remain 14 and 12. The 3 points of Strength are used but not expended; the prime requisite is “increased” but not the Wisdom score.

To explain what’s happening in the game world, we can say that the above-average Strength compliments Wisdom and, therefore, the cleric advances faster, earning a bonus to earned experience points.

Similarly, a fighter can use 2 points of Intelligence or 3 points of Wisdom to raise the prime requisite (Strength) by 1 point. A clever fighter, like the strong cleric, advances more quickly.

If we need to be convinced, the magic-user’s case cinches it. A magic-user may use Wisdom—but not Strength—to augment earned experience. A wise magic-user may employ intellect more effectively, while Strength is of no use in the exercise of the arcane arts.

Language in the first supplement hints that players at the time were also confused about the adjustments. In Greyhawk, under the Strength entry, where the co-creator allows fighters with above-average Strength a bonus to attack and damage rolls, Gygax stipulates:

“This strength must be raw, i.e. not altered by intelligence scores” (7).

Here, we sense that Gygax knew players were ignoring “for purposes of gaining experience only” and adjusting the actual scores.

To add further confusion, Gygax goes on to allow thieves to raise the raw score.3

“[Thieves] may use 2 points of intelligence and 1 point of wisdom to increase their raw dexterity score…” (8).

Note he does not say the raw Intelligence and Wisdom scores are lowered.

The language elided above: “…so long as they do not thereby bring the intelligence and wisdom scores below average” is the same as the note given in Men & Magic (footnote, 11), where the raw scores are not changed.

As Greyhawk maintains the limited benefits of Dexterity, affecting only “the ability of characters to act/react and fire missiles” (8), thieves apply high intelligence and wisdom, not only to their experience point bonus, but also to initiative and careful aim. (As of 1976, only fighters can take advantage of high Dexterity to improve their armor class.)

Practice Paradigm

In Basic D&D (1977), editor Eric Holmes shifts from the complimentary to a practice paradigm. The editor explains in clear language:

“It is possible to raise a character’s scores in a prime requisite by lowering the scores of some of the other abilities. This recognizes that one can practice and learn feats of fighting, intelligence, etc., but must take a penalty in another area by so doing” (6).

In the practice paradigm, a magic-user can sacrifice Strength for Intelligence. Again, the lack of this option in OD&D is a tell for the complimentary paradigm.

Moldvay, with similar language, brings the practice paradigm forward into B/X, only simplifying the exchange rate, always two for one.

Complimentary vs. Practice

Apart from it just makes better sense, I prefer OD&D’s complimentary paradigm over the practice paradigm for two reasons:

  1. The practice paradigm, though it raises the prime requisite scores, tends to draw the two other abilities down toward 9. The 3d6 method already produces scores heavy toward the average.
  2. While the practice paradigm results in a net loss, the complimentary paradigm requires no sacrifice on the player’s part. No tough decision: “Do I lower strength to get one more point of wisdom…?” Therefore, character creation goes faster.

Subsumed Paradigm

Meanwhile, in the Advanced D&D Player’s Handbook (1978), Gygax omits adjustments to prime requisite scores all together. He proposes instead more generous methods to generate ability scores. The rolled scores, we infer, represent the character’s natural talent as well as any improvements and sacrifices made during one’s formative years. Furthermore, only an exceptional score (above 15) in one’s “principal attribute”—the term Gygax favors—grants a bonus to earned experience.

Brian Rogers on Mastodon points out that, according to his calculations, the chance to get an XP bonus at AD&D’s higher threshold and 4d6-drop-lowest is about the same as other old-school editions’ 13 threshold with 3d6. [13:10 02 February 2023 GMT]

But Gygax does something else in 1st Edition. He introduces ability adjustments based on race. Each player character race, except humans, receives a bonus and a penalty to two or three ability scores. For example, an elf benefits from an extra point of Dexterity, while suffering the loss of one point from Constitution. The exchange is always one for one.

Still, the adjustments represent the innate characteristics of the race. They are born in, not acquired later. Scores generated during character creation—no matter the method—represent the character’s abilities at the beginning of his or her career.

Though 3E grants ability score increases at higher levels and gives no XP bonus for high scores, and 4E grants ability score bonuses based on race without penalties, the subsumed paradigm is followed in later editions of the world’s most fascinating role-playing game.

Further Reading

1 Instead of playing the familiar elf, who is at once fighter and magic-user, the OD&D player decides, before each adventure begins, which class abilities the elf will employ for the adventure (Men & Magic, 8). If we assume the game simulates a fantastic world, this makes no sense. The decision point only makes sense when we remind ourselves that D&D is a game after all.

2 See heading “Swords, Damage Bonuses” in Monsters & Treasure, 30.

3 I base the interpretation solely on the fact that Gygax employed “raw” score a few paragraphs before. I assume he would not be so sloppy with terms as to misuse this one on the next page. Or would he…? Here we might rather say, “Gygax seems to allow thieves to raise the raw score.”

Read more about the article A Craft Store Discovery

A Craft Store Discovery

The story continues. This is the next episode following my early experiences playing Holmes Basic D&D, recounted in Blue Flame, Tiny Stars.

Memory fades like a ship on a foggy horizon when there is nothing to anchor it. So, the remainder of the summer passed into obscurity. I started high school in the fall, made new friends, and got a paper route. Of these, the last would stir the fog and give me another glimpse of D&D on the horizon.

After school, I would walk to the downtown law office where my mother worked as a legal secretary. The half-hour commute took me along the town’s main street and by the county library.

I dropped my books at the office and went to the corner convenient store, where the newspaperman left the papers, bailed in a plastic strip. I tore the strip, folded the papers, and loaded a shoulder bag made of heavy cloth, bleached white, “Citizen Tribune” printed on a side.

This wasn’t a bike-riding, paper-throwing, “’Afternoon, Mr. Wilson!” route, like we used to see on the television. It was a walking, newspaper-box route, and I never talked to or even met any of the folks who presumably read the papers I delivered.

I walked the route every day, except Mondays and Saturdays when there was no edition. My older brother drove me to the neighborhood on Sunday mornings. Every other Tuesday, I wrote the amount each subscriber owed for the period on an envelope and put it in the box with the paper. The following Friday, I collected the envelopes filled with coins and dollar bills. The route took just less than an hour. Biweekly earnings came to ten dollars and change.

One day on the after-school commute, as I turned the corner onto Main Street, something in a shop window caught my eye. A sign that stuck out over the sidewalk identified the shop as Witty’s Craft Store. The afternoon sun reflected off the glass. Shielding my eyes with a hand, I squinted through the glare.

The window was divided into two shelves. Balsa wood boxes and knitting books were arranged on the bottom shelf. On the top, above eye level, I made out a box cover and, on it, a bright green dragon. Large capital letters declared the title “DUNGEONS & DRAGONS.”

I whispered aloud, “Isn’t that the game I played with Garth…?”

The box was red violet, not the blue of the book I remembered. But it had a dragon. Facing it from the other side of the shelf, a matching box, this one blue, had a wizard. All that didn’t jive with memory, but tiny stars were flashing in my mind.

A bell dinged overhead as I pushed through the door. The store smelled like cedar and Elmer’s glue. A woman at the counter talked into a telephone.

I turned toward the window. The two boxes, each on a triangular stand, showed me their backs. I would have to reach to get them down.

The counter woman penciled notes into a ledger with one hand, while holding the receiver to her ear with the other. Glancing from the corner of an eye, she smiled and raised the pencil and an index finger at me.

I waited. A glance around the shop told me there were no other boxes with dragons or wizards on them. The shelves were filled with wooden dowels, kraft paper, and paint-by-number kits.

A moment later, the woman hung up the phone and laid the pencil on the ledger. “Hi, can I help you?”

I pointed to the blue box. “Can I look at this?”

My voice was sheepish. Shopping for me was a rare activity. Shopping on my own more so. The etiquette was unfamiliar. Here I was, asking to examine an item from the display case, as if I had money to buy it.

“Sure,” she said and went back to the ledger.

Reaching up, I took the box from its triangular stand. I was careful not to upset the stand or the other box. The contents shifted as I drew it down. Shrink-wrap crackled under my fingers.

The box in both hands, my eyes searched for a dragon atop a mound of treasure, adventurers, a magic wand. They found a wizard wearing a green robe. He gripped a staff at the end of an outstretched arm. The staff’s ornament shed a blue light. The other arm upraised, the hand empty, fingers spread, tensed, as if exerting some unseen force.

The wizard’s angular features gave him an exotic and menacing aspect. He had bony joints and a triangle nose. The robe bent at angles rather than flowing in smooth curves. I found a wand hanging from his belt, secured by two loops. The loops were rigid and angular, as if made from metal. The wooden staff crooked at right angles.

From beneath a pointed cap flowed stark white hair. Also white, a beard framed a small mouth, open in a gasp, and bushy brows raised over wide eyes. The pupils focused on a scene in a cloud of smoke that billowed from a flaming brazier. The scene contained two adventurers confronting a dragon. Still no treasure.

“That’s the second one,” said the woman. “You have to start with the other one.”

A black number “2” in a white circle was printed in the upper left corner above a yellow banner that read “EXPERT SET for use with D&D Basic Set.” In the left corner, a sticker put the price at $10.00.

“Okay.” I nodded, looking up from the box. “Do you know anything about this game?”

Her thick, blond hair was tied back. It had a gray tinge that matched her complexion. “No, I’m sorry. Not really.”

I ran my fingers along the box edge, feeling the shrink-wrap’s seams. “Can I see what’s inside?”

“There’s a picture on the back.”

I turned the box over. A black-and-white photograph showed the box in miniature beside two books. One book shared the image from the box top. Neither looked like the pale blue book Garth had. Also in the photo, I made out a crayon and multi-sided dice.

Garth’s voice sounded in my head: “They’re polyhedrons.”

Above the photo, a block of text in a red rectangle warned that I could not play this game by itself. I needed the basic rulebook.

I replaced the blue box in its stand and took the violet. Other than the crackling shrink-wrap and shifting box contents, the store was quiet. Every sound I made was amplified in my ears. I felt the woman’s gaze.

I looked first at the back. No warning on this one. Below a similar photograph showing the contents, I scanned small text that described a scene: a sword, a fight with a dragon, treasure. I stopped on a line:

“‘What do you want to do now?’ asks the Dungeon Master.”

Garth was always asking Jarrod and I what we wanted to do. And didn’t he call himself the dungeon master?

I turned to the front. The dragon’s green skin stood out against violet cavern walls. Two figures, with the same angled features as the wizard, attacked it. One, an armored man with a spear, the other, a woman with a green flaming ball. The man defended himself with a wooden shield and wore armor and a winged helm. The woman held a torch. She wore a sleeveless robe, one leg exposed from thigh to calf boot. A dagger hung from a waist belt. At her feet, an open chest spilled coins and sparkling gems— treasure!

The number in the upper left was a “1.” The banner text read, “BASIC SET with Introductory Module.” Like the other set, the price was $10.00. In the lower right corner, I read: “The Original Fantasy Role Playing Game For 3 or More Adults, Ages 10 and Up.”

This must be the game. It was Tuesday. Envelopes would go in paper boxes today. I returned the box to its stand and thanked the woman for her time. The bell dinged as I went through the door. I could not bare to look again at the boxes in the shop window as I strode by, head bent, full of anticipation.

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS Basic and Expert Sets, Cover Art by Erol Otus.
Edited by Tom Moldvay and David Cook with Steve Marsh (Lake Geneva, WI: TSR Hobbies, 1981), this edition, known as B/X D&D, and its retro-clones today enjoy a large and growing fan base.

Where is Blue Flame, Tiny Stars?

I should have a print proof any day now. For more info, please see “Considering a Print Edition.”

To get the latest news, follow me on Twitter or Facebook or subscribe to new articles on DONJON LANDS (sidebar).

Read more about the article Hekselannen

Hekselannen

Here I sketch a few details in broad strokes. I’m saving a rumor table for the final article, which pulls previous articles together into a campaign background.

Reading Map

This is the seventh article of a series outlining a B/X D&D campaign inspired by an old map.

G. FILL IN IMPORTANT DETAILS AND POINTS OF INTEREST.

Names

In the May 1999 Dungeoncraft installment (Dragon #259), Ray Winninger addresses the naming of people and places in our imagined settings. He suggests several pointers for coming up with appropriate appellations, one of which is to borrow from existing languages. “Remember this number: 400,” Winninger writes:

“That’s the Dewey Decimal Classification number for language. If you go to your local public library and browse around the 430s through about the 490s, you’ll find plenty of foreign-language dictionaries, each of which can be mined for good names.”

Being of the old school, we remember the number as well as the Dewey Decimal System and public libraries, still proud bastions of knowledge and learning. Today, though, no foray to base town is required. Online dictionaries and interactive translators put entire lexicons at our disposal.

We already covered noble titles in “Thirteen Graves.” In “Monstrous Denizens of the Pale Moor,” I made reference to a few names, which I noted on the map (reproduced above). These are examples of the system’s loose application. As source languages for this region, I lean on Frisian, Dutch, German, and Old High German, though other languages are not excluded.

Emden: Many historical names on the map are serviceable for our purpose. Seems to me that Emden (city) and Emder (county) must be related to the Ems (river). Porting all three saves us some trouble. I don’t find any etymology for the root, which leaves us carte blanche to invent a fantastic meaning for “em.”

Broeckemeer: Embellished from Emmius’s map. Suitably suspicious.

Reidermark: The name for the territory now submerged beneath the bay is also lifted from the historical map. I change it from “land” to “mark” as it was, before the flood, a boundary province. At the time of the campaign, it is most often referred to as Lost Reidermark.

Dragons Watch Mountains: Here I resort to English. We came to know them in Wyrm Dawn as the Western Mountains. Throrgrmir dwarves refer to this range as Fjallaheim (mountain home, Old Norse). Since dragons heard rumors of wyrmlings creeping in the dwarven dungeon, these low peaks make convenient roosts within easy flight of the place the Age of Dragons is prophesied to begin.

Elding Wood and Ellriendi Forest: Both names are from the Valormr Campaign. Last summer’s game flew by in a fog of war, but I believe I pulled them somehow out of Old Norse.

Valhallan (misspelled on map): Settled by a warlike clan of religious zealots, the grave takes its name from the chief god’s great hall.

Hekselannen, “The Hex Lands”: “Hekse lannen” is Frisian for “witch lands.” I concatenate to arrive at the proper appellation of the Forsaken Peninsula. From there, simple word play gets the vulgar name.

Grave Subjects

Most human PCs hail from one of the thirteen graves and, as such, are subject to the landgrave and, if the landgrave swears fealty, to the herzog. We established earlier that the graves compete with each other for the Pale Moor’s resources. Persons of the adventuring class, then, are valued subjects, provided they agree to undertake the occasional quest for the hierarchy. A subject who is known to undertake quests for other landgraves is admonished or punished according to the quest’s importance and impact. Penalties range from a small fine to public execution.

A DM might introduce the idea of adventuring licenses—something akin to letters of marque—issued by the landgraves or the herzog, which grant a limited authority to act in the name of the issuer, usually to claim land and other resources.

Total Protonic Reversal

This might qualify as crossing the streams, but there’s definitely a very slim chance we’ll survive.

I think it fairly obvious that, when naming the Keep on the Pale Moor in the Valormr Campaign last year, I had in mind the most famous keep in D&D. Then, in “About the Reedition of Phenster’s,” I mentioned the resemblance of the fictional society’s “Great Halls of Pandemonium” to the Caves of Chaos.

I want to put the two ideas together. I don’t mean that we drop in the Keep and the Caves and be done with it. I mean that we reuse parts of Dungeon Module B2 that fit the scenario. I’m thinking specifically of the Keep map and the concept of the Caves.

The Keep on the Pale Moor

We reuse the map of the borderlands Keep (B2, 16), but the once great fortress, constructed as a staging area and supply point for the Chaos Armies, is now in ruins. Recently, its walls and gates have been crudely reconstructed by its current hobgoblin inhabitants.

Maybe the hobgoblins are aware of the “secret entrance to a long forgotten dungeon” from the cellar beneath area #16 (B2, 25). Or maybe they have reason to believe it exists but haven’t found it yet.

Either way, the key to lifting the Pale Moor curse lies at the bottom of the dungeon. Therefore, the Keep on the Pale Moor becomes the campaign’s initial focal point. The PCs must, first, defeat the hobgoblins and reclaim the keep before the Wraithwright can raise an undead army. Then, using the surface ruins as a base, they must defend the keep, while they descend into the dungeon to lift the curse before the Wraithwright, with his now-raised army, destroys the keep.

The Dungeon: The Great Halls of Pandemonium

After events play out at the keep, the campaign’s focal point shifts to a ruined city of the Greater Ones, taken over by demons, rebuilt in their chaotic fashion, and named by them Pandemonium, after the capital city on their home plane. The cyclopean ruins are now sunk beneath the mires of the Pale Moor.

Because events at the keep will have an impact, it’s too early to tell what the scenario might be when PCs arrive at the Great Halls. The vision, in general terms, is to apply some of the concepts of the Caves of Chaos:

  • Each “hall” is a small dungeon, most of them connected to adjacent halls.
  • A temple is dedicated to the demons who once lived there. Within the temple complex, evil priests work to call the demons back to the Great Halls.
  • The halls are densely populated with creatures of chaos, as the evil priests gather the chaotic horde to fill the ranks of the demonic legion.

To complicate matters, the Warlock abides in a nearby tower. To further his goals, the Warlock uses devils—or devils use the Warlock to further their own.

Evil Factions

There are two major villains in the campaign. Each leads a faction. The Wraithwright, aligned with demons and chaotic evil creatures, may sometimes work with—and sometimes work against—the Warlock, aligned with devils and lawful evil creatures. Departing from B/X rules as written, the remainder of this series assumes a five-point alignment system as in Holmes Basic. (See Demons and Devils and Alignments in “Monstrous Denizens of the Pale Moor.”)

Secret #10: It was not long after the Rending and events of Song of the World Dragon that demons came to the ruined city of the Greater Ones. They sought a powerful object constructed by the now extinct beings. They found it. I don’t know yet exactly what this object is, but its misuse provoked the destruction of the rebuilt demon city of Pandemonium and sent the demons back to their home plane. It’s possible that devils, jealous of the prize, were involved. It’s probable that recovering this artifact is a primary objective of either or both of our villains. There is no doubt, though, that it may eventually be found deep in the sediment beneath the shallow bay where lies Lost Reidermark.

Man vs. Machine: Chainmail Jousting Live Tournament

“If ever Dan challenges you to a game of Chainmail Jousting, don’t do it. Just don’t do it! He has a system…”—Paul Siegel, Wandering DMs

I was properly warned. But when I got an email from Wandering DMs co-host Dan Collins earlier this week with the subject line: “Jousting Sunday?,” did I heed the warning? Of course not, I’m an adventurer after all.

This week on Wandering DMs, Dan and I tilt in the lists. My strategy is based on an analysis of Chainmail’s Jousting Matrix, outlined here. I rank each aiming point and defensive position using a simple point system.

Dan’s strategy is based on the Nash equilibrium. It’s a math thing. Essentially, as Dan explains, the goal of calculating the Nash equilibrium is to “optimize the possibly-infinite sequence of ‘if you know that I know that you know that I know’ decisions.” Or, as I understand it, Dan fed the Jousting Matrix to the machine, which coughed up the optimal strategy for winning a joust, and Dan turned the results into a weighted table.

It’s an age-old scenario: a human does a thing well until some other human builds a machine that does it better, faster, stronger… I’m not talking Steve Austin. I’m talking less fictional characters against automated opponents: John Henry vs. the steam drill, Garry Kasparov vs. Deep Blue, Jeopardy! champions vs. Watson.

In all these cases, the machine wins! Have I got a chance…?

Watch live, Sunday, July 24, at 1:00 p.m. EDT: “Jousting in Original D&D | Live Tournament,” on Wandering DMs. Root for the human.

The Phalanx and the Shield Wall

In three issues of The Strategic Review, Gary Gygax describes the spear and its kin: the javelin, lance, and pike, for fantasy adventure gamers (Vol. 1, No. 1, 1975) and details several other pole arms, giving use, length, and a drawing of each (Nos. 2, 4). He revisits the topic in a 1979 Dragon article, “The Nomenclature of Pole Arms” (#22), which is reprinted in Best of Dragon Volume II (1981) and, as an appendix, in AD&D Unearthed Arcana (1985). The corpus is often called Gygax’s “treatise” on pole arms.

The Pandemonium Society recognized the early rendition as a useful resource. Study of the historical use of pole arms, notably the pike, leads inevitably to the phalanx formation and house rules such as those Phenster describes in “Phalanx Fighting.” When we realize we can get two or more weapons in the same frontage normally reserved for one, the tactical advantage is clear.

Phalanx Formation [E]

Whatever its historical meaning, a phalanx, for the Pandemonium Society, is a combat formation in which a spearman—or any combatant armed with a long, thrusting weapon—fights from behind an ally. The phalanx formation is best achieved when the opponent is prevented from closing with the spearman by some means, multiple allies in the fore rank for example.

A pole arm at least eight feet long can attack through one rank; 12 feet or longer, through three ranks; 16 feet, four ranks; 20 feet, five.

Additional Weapons

Phenster’s article mentions two weapons not given in Holmes. For completeness sake, I give them here, each with its weapon class, qualities (see “Weapon Damage and Attack Priority”), and cost, the last of which I determined by my own fiat.

Short Sword [E]

Length: 1-1/2' to 2', weapon class: ordinary (damage: d6), weapon quality: short, cost: 7 g.p.

Long Spear [E]

Length: 10' to 15', weapon class: ordinary (damage: d6), weapon quality: long, two-handed, cost: 3 g.p.

Spear Against Charging Opponents [E]

Any spear versus a charging opponent adds 1 to damage. Set (as against the ground or a wall) versus a charging opponent, it adds 2 to damage.

Maximum Weapon Length in the Dungeon

Two options for limiting overlong weapons in the dungeon’s confines are given here. The latter gets tedious in execution, therefore, I put it in the [P] Pandemonium category (see “About the Reedition of Phenster’s”).

Maximum Length by Weapon Type [E]

In Greyhawk, OD&D Supplement I, Gygax prohibits weapons in the dungeon by type: pikes and pole arms “are not usable in dungeons as a general rule due to length” (15). This works well enough in a campaign with dungeons of usual dimensions.

Maximum Weapon Length Equals Ceiling Height [P]

Hazard’s ceiling height rule is more specific, and Phenster elaborates on the penalties. Carrying a weapon longer than the dungeon’s standard ceiling height is awkward and makes more noise. The DM should reduce the party’s movement to three-quarters normal rate and increase the frequency of wandering monster checks.

Close Order, Ranks, and Quarters

Phenster uses three terms that may be unfamiliar to adventure gamers without military or wargame experience. I define each as I interpret the text, though—still shy of the battle grid—I hesitate to give specific distances. Let’s assume that the normal distance in each case is five feet. The “close” modifier, then, implies some lesser distance.

Close Order: Refers to the distance between allies (left and right) in a rank.

Close Ranks: Refers to the distance between ranks (before and behind). A phalanx formation assumes close ranks.

Close Quarters: Refers to the distance between facing opponents—that is, they are standing toe-to-toe. The situation is achieved by move, when closing to melee, or maneuver, if already engaged (see Maneuver [E]). In close quarters, opponents may attack only with a short, thrusting weapon (a dagger meets these criteria). Otherwise, one or the other may step back by maneuvering (space allowing), or one may push the other (see Shield Wall, below).

Note: As “maneuver” occurs after the melee round in no particular order, when a combatant maneuvers into close quarters, the opponent, if space allows, may also maneuver to step away at the same time.

Shield Wall [E]

Multiple attacks against a single opponent may draw us into a phalanx, but in the shield wall the formation reaches its highest potential. After opposing forces have molested each other with pointy sticks, each side digs in to shove the other backward, employing the weight of its entire phalanx. The goal is to break the opponent’s formation. Once their formation is broken, troops tend to panic, leaving the field to the victors.

To form a shield wall, at least two shield-bearing combatants must be in close order, shields touching if not overlapping.

Shield Wall AC Bonus [E]

Each member of a shield wall, except the rightmost, benefits from the shield of the member on the right, gaining an additional +1 to AC.

Tortoise: Phenster mentions that rear ranks may hold their shields overhead against missile fire. The action is, however, cosmetic, as they would already count the shield’s bonus in their AC.

Shield Wall Push [P]

A shield wall, as described below, gets away with a lot of footwork. Previously eschewing Holmes’s static combat, Phenster allows a combatant, even while engaged in melee, to move but “just not very far” (L’avant garde #35, see also Maneuver [E]). A successful push can easily move both sides quite far. Perhaps the Pandemonium Society used other rules, unpublished, in addition to those in the article. As is, some extrapolation is required, which I do. For its ambiguity, I class Push in [P] Pandemonium. DMs should be prepared to adjudicate.

A shield-bearing rank, whether part of a phalanx or not, or an individual may, following the melee round (see Maneuver [E]), step into close quarters with an opponent and push the opponent backward.

  • Each side rolls dice equal in size and quantity to their total hit dice. All troops in the formation, no matter the number of ranks, are considered. In the case of large forces, the number of dice may be reduced proportionally. For example, 100d8 versus 80d6 becomes 10d8 versus 8d6.
  • The side with the higher result pushes the other side backward a number of feet equal to the positive difference. If a formation is pushed backward a distance equal to its combat move rate in a single round, or if it is pushed a total of three times its move rate, the formation is broken.
  • A broken formation must immediately make a morale check (NPCs only) with a -1 penalty. A failed check indicates a retreat: members run away (combat move ×3) and cannot defend (-2 AC). On a successful check, the force withdraws: members can defend (but not attack) while moving at combat speed to the rear. Once withdrawn, the phalanx is considered reformed at the beginning of the next round.

Missile Fire into Melee

In “Shooting into a Fight” (L’avant garde #39), Phenster addresses an age-old dilemma in D&D combat. I cover how the problem is handled in early editions and give my own solution in “Firing into Melee.”

On first reading, Phenster’s description of the “Friendly Fire Number” may seem complex. I attempt here to break down Hazard’s calculation into discreet steps. After some practice, I find it isn’t so difficult to do the quick mental math.

The task is less daunting if we remember the following points:

  1. Throughout the text, Phenster uses only even numbers up to the maximum of 8. So we only have four options: 2, 4, 6, or 8.
  2. We don’t have to take into account all figures in the melee. We only consider one or two friendly characters, between the shooter and the target, and only one creature as the target.
  3. Like Hazard says, “You don't have to get it exactly right.”

Missile Fire into Melee [E]

“Remember that spells and missiles fired into a melee should be considered to strike members of one’s own party as well as enemy” (Holmes, 20).

Holmes gives no further guidance on the matter. The following method may be used to calculate the chance of friendly fire.

Method

  1. Determine the friendly fire number (below).
  2. Subtract the friendly fire number from the attack roll and add bonuses and penalties as normal to determine a hit or miss on the target.
  3. If the natural dice result is the friendly fire number or less, a friendly is hit.

Short Range: According to Phenster, missile fire into melee is only permitted from the weapon’s short range. (But see below, Hail Mary [E].)

Target Has Precedence: In the case where the natural result would hit a friendly, but adding modifiers hits the target, then the target is hit.

Which Friendly is Hit: Phenster doesn’t say how to determine which of two friendly characters are hit. You could dice for it based on the relative sizes of the two characters, but that takes an extra dice roll. When two friendlies are in jeopardy, I call one odd, the other even, at the same time I call the friendly fire number. The attack roll then determines which is hit.

Sizes

Using Phenster’s examples, I extrapolate creature heights and add a couple other usual types.

Creature Sizes for Friendly Fire Number
Size Height Creature
Small Up to 3' Halfling
Man-Sized 4' to 6' Dwarf, elf, human
Big 7' to 9' Ogre, minotaur, troll
Giant 10' to 12' Hill giant*
Dragon Over 12' Dragon, other giants, purple worm
* Phenster says “giant,” but, depending on the type, a giant can be up to 24' in height. I think once the creature is more than twice man-size, the chance of friendly fire is null.

To Determine the “Friendly Fire Number”

I break down the scenarios into three cases by the shooter’s position in relation to the target and allies. The shooter is attacking either from behind allies in melee with the target, from the target’s flank, or attacking from the target’s rear while all friendlies are opposite.

From Behind Allies

In the standard case, where the missile fire attacker is trying to shoot into a melee from the same side as the friendly characters, consider one or two friendlies in melee with the target. We start with the base number, then add and subtract for friendlies and the target by size.

Base Number:

  • No matter who’s in the fight, the base number is 4.

Friendlies:

  • Subtract 2 for small friendly.
  • Add 2 for large friendly.
  • Add 2, 4, or 6 for second small, man-sized, or larger friendly.

Target:

  • Subtract 2 or 4 for larger target.
  • Add 2 for small target.

Other Considerations:

  • Assumes the friendly character is directly between the enemy and the would-be shooter. If the shooter is off to one side, but not flanking, subtract 2.
  • When two friendlies are before the target, the shooter may move to one side, space allowing, so only one friendly is in consequence.
  • The DM may add 2 or 4 for friendlies not in melee but masking fire in the middle field.
  • In no case should the friendly fire number be lower than 2.

From Flank

In the case where the attacker is flanking the melee without a friendly in the way, we consider all friendly figures on any side of the target as a group. The number is predetermined, no additions or subtractions.

  • Friendlies on one side: 2
  • Friendlies on two sides: 4
  • Friendlies on three sides: 6

Another way to think about this case, is simply 2 per side.

All Friendlies Opposite

When all friendlies are beyond the target, we calculate the number for one or two friendlies in the line of fire (as in From Behind Allies above), then subtract 2.

Modifiers to Mitigate Friendly Fire or No?

Hazard doesn’t count any modifiers in the chance to hit a friendly character. Should a shooter’s high Dexterity help to avoid friendly fire? How about a magic bow? Should a high-level shooter have a better chance?

The answers to these questions may depend on how high a Dexterity bonus can be in your game and how much magic treasure comes into the campaign. Another consideration may be the calculation required. It’s easy math for sure, but that extra step in the players’ minds takes a little of the immediate impact out of the dice roll. I like for everyone to know immediately when the dice stops whether the aim was true or somebody needs to make an apology.

The following rules take modifiers and high levels into account. You can use either or both with Missile Fire into Melee [E].

Add Modifiers to Mitigate Friendly Fire [E]

Use the modified dice result to determine friendly fire.

Add Level “Steps” to Mitigate Friendly Fire [E]

Add 1 to the attack roll for each “step” above the first on the attack matrix, one step being three levels for fighters, four for clerics and thieves, and five for magic-users.

Caveat: Using both these rules, a 4th-level fighter or a 5th-level thief (second step, +1) with a +1 Dexterity bonus for a score of 13 or more and a +1 magic bow at short range (+1), has a +4 on the attack roll, which allows them, in the standard scenario, to shoot into a melee with impunity. Careful.

Hail Mary [E]

It’s risky, but in a game where anything is permitted, players may want fire into melee at medium or long range. In this case add 4 to the friendly fire number for each longer range: medium +4, long +8.

No Shooting Into Melee [H]

“Once the party is engaged in melee, arrows cannot be fired into the fight because of the probability of hitting friendly characters” (Holmes 20).

“…and then melee is joined, after which no missile fire is permitted because of the danger of hitting friendly forces” (21).

In two of three mentions, Holmes interdicts missile fire into melee. Unsatisfactory as this may be, the easiest way to handle the situation is to disallow it. I include this option to remove any ambiguity, should the DM provide a list of house rules to players.

Maneuver, Initiative Order, and Multiple Attacks

By neglecting some rules in “Rules the Pandemonium Society Doesn’t Use,” Phenster obliges us to clarify. He also adds a house rule for acting later in a melee round. To all that, I add multiple attacks per round, suggested by a L’avant garde reader in response to Phenster’s earlier article.

Each house rule is followed by a category designator in parenthesis. See “About the Reedition of Phenster’s” for category descriptions. Text under headers sans designator is just me talking.

A Word About Figurines

Holmes mentions the use of figurines, claiming, “The game is more exciting and spectacular using the lead miniature figures” (5). Many gaming groups of the ’70s and ’80s had and used figurines at the table. I suspect the majority did not employ them in combat in the meticulous manner assumed by some later D&D editions.

My experience with figurines in the ’80s and ’90s, other than admiring the paintwork, was limited to their use to designate order of march and the occasional table arrangement to show the more complicated battle arrays. Even in this later case, we didn’t often use figures to represent monsters. Too many monsters, not enough cash. We just said, “The [monster] is over here,” sometimes placing dice or a soda can.

Phenster never mentions figurines in relation to combat. In the reedition, I intend to keep the rules light enough that one is not forced to break out the miniatures.

For example, in the following rule for maneuver, I avoid delimiting a certain distance a character can move in combat and eschew terms like “square.” I prefer the Holmes term “space,” which leaves the theater free of any grid.

You may, of course, employ figurines, or not and to any degree, as you please.

Maneuver [E]

While engaged in melee, a combatant may move into any open space behind or beside. If the combatant turns their back on the opponent or is otherwise distracted, the opponent gets a free attack, as if the combatant were fleeing. (See Holmes, 21.) This movement occurs after the melee round with any other movement (see Holmes, 20).

Disengagement

When using the maneuver rule, ignore the suggestion, under Caveat in “Weapon Damage and Attack Priority,” to use the parry rule (Holmes, 21) to disengage. With the maneuver rule, disengagement is simpler. If an engaged combatant steps away from the opponent, the opponent may follow at the same time. In this case, disengagement does not occur. If the opponent does not follow, disengagement occurs.

According to Attack Priority by Weapon Quality [E], without the necessity to parry, a character armed with a long weapon may step back from an opponent, and, assuming the opponent does not follow—to avoid being flanked by another enemy, for instance—the character may strike the first blow in the next round, while the opponent cannot return the blow, unless it is also armed with a long weapon. The character may remain in position on subsequent rounds, getting the first blow without the chance to be attacked. This is essentially what Phenster calls a “phalanx,” which he covers later.

“Withdraw” or Retreat

Holmes’s description of withdrawing from melee (21) implies the character’s back is to the enemy. Suffering a “free swing” at +2 and not counting shield seems more like a retreat. Using maneuver, if a combatant moves back a space, and the opponent does not follow, the combatant may, in the next round, turn tail and run without consequence.

Drop Items on Surprise [E]

Ignore the rule that says a surprised character drops any items in hand (Holmes, 10).

One-sixth of ⅓ is about 5%. Before arguing about whether the chance is too high or too low, we drop the rule because an extra dice roll per character, including entourage, every time the party is surprised (2 out of 6) is too much for what it gives the game.

I put this one in the [E] Extra category. Holmes straight up, I use the rule as written. It’s unique to Bluebook D&D.

Initiative Order

The following rules assume the use of the initiative-by-Dexterity system in Holmes. In that system, a normal round starts at 18 and counts down to 3, where combatants act on the “count” equal to their Dexterity score.

Simultaneous Combat [E]

Ignore the instruction to dice for first blow when two opponents have similar Dexterity scores (Holmes, 21). If opponents act on the same count, the actions are simultaneous. The success or failure of all simultaneous actions are determined before results, usually damage, are applied.

Hold Action [E]

A character may wait to take their action on a later count in the initiative order. An action might be held so as to work in conjunction with another’s action or to interrupt it. Holding one’s action changes the character’s initiative count in subsequent rounds to that on which they act in the current round.

To hold an action, the player states their intention on their normal initiative count. The character then takes the action when the situation matches the intention. The player may, at any time, change their mind and take some other action. An action not used may be executed at the end of the round or held until the next round.

Multiple Attacks per Round [E]

Referring to weapon classes in “Weapon Damage and Attack Priority,” a combatant wielding a weapon two classes lighter than that of the opponent gets two attacks per round. Three classes lighter, three attacks.

No matter the difference in weapon class, combatants are still limited to one attack per phase: beginning, middle, end. (See heading Go First, Go Last in “Weapon Damage and Attack Priority.”) Usually, the last of two or three attacks is taken at the end of the round; the second of three is taken in the middle. The usual case may change, for instance, when the combatant holds an attack. If not using those phases, the DM may adjudicate whether the combatant can get in all attacks.

A combatant gets only one attack per round when closing to melee or in any round after moving, not including maneuvering.

With a weapon of a heavier, same, or one class lighter than the opponent’s weapon, a combatant gets just one attack per round.

Weapon Damage and Attack Priority

With his first house-rules article (see “Pandemonium Society House Rules”), Phenster attacks the most salient problem in the Holmes edition. In a world where all weapons do the same damage and light weapons attack twice per round, daggers get a lot of use, and we wonder why swords—or indeed any other weapons—ever came under the blacksmith’s hammer.

Charming Solution

By far the simplest solution is to ignore Holmes’s varying number of attacks per round by weapon. Thus, every weapon strikes once per round and does d6 damage. Weapon choice then becomes purely aesthetic. This solution has its charm.

Using the following weapon damage and attack priority rules together disarms the dagger-wielding fighter and gives the adventurer meaningful choices when considering arms.

Damage Dice by Weapon Class [H]

Phenster notes a d6 modified by -1, +1, and +2 for three weapon classes. I assume he intends a fourth class for medium weapons—Holmes uses “ordinary”—which inflict damage equal to an unmodified dice.

In the table below, I note the weapons in each class. Where neither Phenster nor Holmes (20) specifies, I use the weapon damage versus man-sized opponents from Greyhawk (OD&D Supplement I, 15) as a guide.

Damage Dice by Weapon Class Table
Class Weapons Damage Alternative
Light Dagger, sling (stone) d6-1 d4
Ordinary Bow (arrow), hand axe, javelin, light crossbow (bolt), mace, spear d6 d6
Heavy Battle axe, flail, heavy crossbow (bolt), lance, morning star, pike, pole arms, sword d6+1 d8
Extra-Heavy Halberd, two-handed sword d6+2 d10

I show an alternative method, not considered in Phenster’s article, that is more familiar to us from B/X. Comparing it to the d6 method, the average damage is the same or, in the case of d6-1, comes close: 2.5 for a d4 versus 2.67 for d6-1, but the ranges of possible results differ.

d-6 Based Damage vs. Alternative Method Comparison Table
d6-Based Average Range Alternative Average Range
d6-1 2.67 1-5 d4 2.5 1-4
d6 3.5 1-6 d6 3.5 1-6
d6+1 4.5 2-7 d8 4.5 1-8
d6+2 5.5 3-8 d10 5.5 1-10

Heavy and extra-heavy weapons have a higher minimum and lower maximum possible result than the alternative method. Light weapons, while they have two chances in six to do 1 point of damage, might do up to 5.

I like the alternative method, because it makes use of more of the “crazy dice.” But it tilts the rules terrain toward B/X, and that’s a slippery slope. Moreover, it veers from the Holmes spirit. Rolling a d6 for damage feels more like Bluebook D&D.

Attack Priority by Weapon Quality [H]

To determine who gets the first blow, Phenster gives priority to certain weapons, which I separate by melee and missile and sort into three qualities each: (melee) Short, Long, and Two-Handed—if my interpretation of “Two-handed swords, et. al.” is correct—and (missile) Slow, Fast, and Loaded.

Engagement

From Phenster’s “when you’re fighting something” and from the example of Beowulf versus orcs, I derive the term “engagement.” An engagement occurs between individual combatants. A melee comprises one or more engagements.

Phenster’s example:

So, when Beowulf is charging into a horde of orcs with his two-handed sword, he gets the first blow against the first orc that's fighting with an axe. But after that he goes last, until he wins the fight and goes to fight another orc.

—L’avant garde #32 (August 1980)

Attack Priority by Weapon Quality Table
Melee Weapons
Quality Weapons* Attack Priority
Short Dagger, hand axe
  • Last blow in first round of an engagement.
  • First blow in subsequent rounds of an engagement.
Long Halberd, lance, pike, pole arms, spear, two-handed sword
  • First blow in first round of an engagement.
  • Last blow in subsequent rounds of an engagement.
Two-Handed Battle axe, halberd, pike, pole arms, two-handed sword
  • Last blow in a round unless also Long.
Missile Weapons
Quality Weapons* Attack Priority
Slow Heavy crossbow†
  • Shoot every other round.
Fast All bows†, dagger
  • If otherwise inactive, make second attack at end of round.
Loaded‡ All bows†, all crossbows†
  • Shoot first in first round.

* Unless otherwise specified, a weapon’s priority is normal. That is, the wielder attacks in initiative order.
† Though it does not effect attack priority, bows and crossbows require two hands.
‡ To gain the Loaded quality, a bow must be readied (arrow knocked) and a crossbow must be loaded before combat. During combat, if the bow- or crossbowman does not shoot in the normal initiative order, the weapon may gain the Loaded quality.

Go First, Go Last

Phenster gives no indication as to how we should integrate first and last strikes into the initiative order. Assuming the Pandemonium Society uses Holmes’s initiative-by-Dexterity system, we might do it the same way we integrate the Editor’s directions about magic spells and missile fire:

“When there is time, or when a magic-user says he is getting a spell ready, magic spells go off first. This is followed by any missile fire…” (Holmes, 21)

In play tests, I divide a round into beginning, middle, and end phases, handling all actions (missile, magic, melee) within each phase in Dexterity order.

I add the Loaded quality to bows, in the case where a bowman “knocks an arrow” just prior to impending combat. Note that, unlike a crossbowman, the bowman’s arm tires quickly, so the knocked state cannot last long.

Caveat to Short and Long Weapons

When an attacker with a short weapon gets inside a longer weapon’s reach before the defender can react, the DM might rule that the short weapon gets the first blow.

For examples, when striking from behind, of course, and when closing on an opponent already engaged in melee with another.

Similarly, a combatant with a longer weapon (e.g., normal vs. short or long vs. normal) may use the parry action (Holmes, 21) to step back, thus disengaging. If the parry is successful, i.e., the parrying combatant is not hit, and if the two opponents come together in the next round, it is considered a new engagement, where the longer weapon again gets the first blow.

Source

Though Phenster does not mention a source in the 1980 article, the attack priority system for melee weapons yields results similar to the man-to-man initiative system given in Chainmail (25-26), and the missile weapon attack priorities are not dissimilar to its mass combat rates of fire (11).

Example: Attack Priority

In this example, I ignore movement rates as well as hits and misses. I also ignore Holmes’s instruction to dice for first blow when “dexterities are within 1 or 2 points of each other” (21), as does Phenster [covered later]. The first two combat rounds are shown, divided into beginning, middle, and end phases. Any movement, which usually takes place after the melee round, is included with the character’s action.

The order of march gives the character class of each party member and their weapons with any notes, including weapon qualities (in parentheses). Dexterity scores are shown [in brackets].

Player Party Order of March:

  • Fighter [12], sword
  • Fighter [6], spear (Long)
  • Magic-User [11], dagger (Short)
  • Thief [15], bow (Fast) and dagger (Short)
  • Elf [10], light crossbow (Loaded) and sword

While the party traverses an intersection of two 20'-wide corridors, three gnolls, approaching from the corridor on their right, see the light and charge. The 1st and 2nd Gnolls [14, 9], armed with maces, lead the charge. The 3rd Gnoll [7], wielding a halberd (Long, Two-Handed), trails, so, closes to melee in the second round.

Neither side is surprised. During the gnolls’ charge, the two fighters (Swordsman and Spearman) step in front of the magic-user, who prepares to cast a spell. The thief could knock an arrow, thus adding the Loaded quality to the bow, but the gnolls’ charge catches the player flat-footed.

First Round

Beginning:

  • Magic-user [11] casts shield.
  • Elf [10] shoots crossbow (Loaded) at 1st Gnoll.
  • Spearman [6] (Long) attacks 2nd Gnoll.

Middle:

  • Thief [15] shoots at 1st Gnoll—who is not yet engaged in melee; see next.
  • 1st Gnoll [14] attacks Swordsman—now it’s engaged.
  • Swordsman [12] attacks 1st Gnoll.
  • 2nd Gnoll [9] attacks Spearman.

End:

  • Thief [15] shoots bow (Fast) at 3rd Gnoll.
  • Magic-user [11] draws dagger, steps up to flank 2nd Gnoll.
  • Elf [10] drops crossbow, draws sword, steps forward.

Second Round

Beginning:

  • Magic-user [11] with dagger (Short) attacks 2nd Gnoll—because the gnoll is already engaged (see Caveat above).
  • 3rd Gnoll [7] with halberd (Long, Two-Handed) attacks Elf.

Middle:

  • Thief [15] drops bow, draws dagger, moves to attack from behind (next round).
  • 1st Gnoll [14] attacks Swordsman.
  • Swordsman [12] attacks 1st Gnoll.
  • Elf [10] attacks 3rd Gnoll with sword.
  • 2nd Gnoll [9] attacks Magic-User.

End:

  • Spearman [6] attacks 2nd Gnoll.

Should the Spearman fell the 2nd Gnoll at the end of this round, he may then engage the 3rd Gnoll, attacking in the beginning of the next round.