Rules

The One-Minute Combat Round Revisited

In “Chainmail, OD&D, and the One-Minute Combat Round,” I focused so closely on Chainmail that I neglected a thorough review of OD&D. In a comment on Grognardia, Zach Howard of Zenopus Archives points out the flagrant oversight.

In D&D (1974), after equating one turn to ten minutes, Gygax and Arneson state, “There are ten rounds of combat per turn” (The Underworld and Wilderness Adventures, 8). As Zach Howard writes, “This is the main reason that the combat round is typically interpreted as 1 minute long in OD&D.”

Indeed, in OD&D the length of a melee round is as clear as it is ambiguous in Chainmail’s Man-to-Man Combat section.

Furthermore, if Chainmail’s combat round is not otherwise “modified in various places” in OD&D, might we then apply the statement retroactively to Chainmail’s man-to-man melee round? In OD&D, a character gets one attack per one-minute round, so the same, a 1:1 figure in Chainmail. The question remains open.

Aside, if we need further proof that units in mass combat melee get only one throw of the dice per turn: it isn’t logical that opposing regiments could finish a melee in a single minute, while a couple of stragglers are still duking it out on the edge of the field.

Considering the clear definition of a round in OD&D, I retract the final conclusion made in “Chainmail, OD&D, and the One-Minute Combat Round,” that is, that the OD&D combat round must be less than one minute in length.

To the contrary, again if we can apply the statement in OD&D retroactively to Chainmail, Gygax and Perren do in fact intend the one-minute round for Man-to-Man Combat, and to be clear, in that one-minute round, each combatant gets one attack—a single throw of the dice.

I retain the other conclusions and observations made in the article. The conclusions, in particular, are that the length of a mass combat melee round in Chainmail is perfectly ambiguous, and that the man-to-man round is not specified.

In the case that the clear rule in OD&D is not a clarification but a modification to Chainmail, then the time scale in Man-to-Man Combat could differ from the mass combat time scale. I point again to the more articulated actions accounted for in Man-to-Man Combat—should one seek justification to change the rule and implement a shorter combat round in their OD&D game.

Thanks to James Maliszewski for bringing attention to the article and to Zach Howard for the comment.

An earlier version of this article did not allow for the possibility that the ten-rounds-per-turn rule is a modification of Chainmail to be applied in OD&D. The final paragraph has been edited accordingly. [05:03 25 July 2021 GMT]

Chainmail, OD&D, and the One-Minute Combat Round

I have long struggled with the one-minute combat round sometimes used in OD&D. Yes, it is easily ignored and many do. But I like at least to make sense of why a rule is as it is. If I don’t understand, whether I use it or ignore it, I’m bugged.

After a reader pointed out an oversight, I reconsidered the final conclusion made in this article, that is, that the OD&D combat round must be less than one minute in length. Please see “The One-Minute Combat Round Revisited.” Though the rule in OD&D—and by extrapolation in Chainmail—is clear, I still struggle with it, and the other conclusions and the observations made herein remain valid, so I leave this article as is.

I think I’ve sussed it. Forgive me if you’ve got this figured out before. I’m catching up. Much has been written about turns and rounds in Chainmail melee. Most of what I find on the internet discusses melee resolution in mass combat.1 I wasn’t able to wade through it all. Please do point me to other arguments or make your own in the comments below.

Mass Combat vs. Man-to-Man

I’m talking here about the combat round in Chainmail’s Man-to-Man Combat system, which is inherited by OD&D. On the subject of melee resolution in mass combat, the rules are, whether by design or lack of it, perfectly ambiguous. One could argue either way, citing, in many cases, the same passage from the text.

To decide, I defer to the definition of Melee Resolution (15). According to my reading, melee “rounds” occur at step 6 in the turn sequence. Each side engaged in melee throws one or more dice a single time to determine hits, casualties are removed, and post-melee morale is tested. If both sides stand the morale test, they are still engaged in melee. But, unless in the middle of a charge, we go on to the next melee on the field, where we repeat the process: dice, casualties, morale, until all melees have had a round. Then, we go back to step 1 in the turn sequence to let other figures on the field get a turn before we continue melee(s) at step 6 in the next turn.

In Chainmail, Gygax and Perren give us the one-minute turn for miniatures combat (hereafter, mass combat2). They also give us the man-to-man combat rules, to which “all the [mass combat] rules apply, except where amended below” (25). Later, in D&D (1974), Gygax and Arneson describe Fighting Capability as “a key to use in conjunction with the Chainmail fantasy rules,3 as modified in various places herein” (Men & Magic, 18).

Mass combat and man-to-man melee must take place at different time scales.

Modern interpretation of this combination of rules yields the one-minute combat round for OD&D. [See also “The One-Minute Combat Round Revisited.”] After a few more man-to-man combat rounds this morning, it occurs to me that mass combat and man-to-man melee must take place at different time scales. That is, in a one-minute turn, all units engaged in mass combat roll the dice once against opponents, while figures engaged in man-to-man melee may roll more than once, exchanging a series of blows, until the outcome is decided—in the same one-minute turn.

I outline the argument below. I hope it is more coherent than its subject matter.

Diverse Sources

Even the casual Chainmail reader is not surprised to learn that the published rules are not a cohesive system for mass combat and individual melees with magic and monsters, integrated like the systems on board an M1 Abrams main battle tank. Chainmail is a number of rules subsets, cobbled together from different sources, more akin to a field-expedient shoe repair job.4 Historian Jon Peterson finds antecedents for the three major subsets, which correspond to the major divisions in Chainmail’s contents table.5

  • RULES FOR MEDIEVAL MINIATURES—Rules for Medieval Wargames, Tony Bath, 1966.
  • MAN-TO-MAN COMBAT—Contribution to Wargamer’s Newsletter #51, Phil Barker, 1966.
  • FANTASY SUPPLEMENT—Rules for the New England Wargamers Association, Leonard Patt, 1970.

Note that Chainmail does not take the earlier systems whole cloth. Peterson uses words like “derivative,” “borrows,” and “prefigures” to describe the relationships.  Of the subsystems, Peterson writes, “each derived from different influences in the creative commons of miniature wargaming, and although Gygax adapted and anthologized them, little effort was made to reconcile or interwork them.”6

It is this lack of reconciliation that sows confusion. That each subset comes from a different source opens the door on the possibility that the time scales differ in mass combat and man-to-man melee.

Turn Sequence and Man-to-Man

Before I go further, it must be understood that the Turn Sequence is used in the Man-to-Man system. If you’re a believer, please skip down to the next heading. If not, let me convince you.

The Turn Sequence, whether move and counter-move or simultaneous movement, stipulates steps for each turn. The sequence is, of course, given in the mass combat section. But those rules apply to the man-to-man rules “except where amended” (25), and, in this regard, they are not.

The best evidence for this is in the “first blow” section (25), which introduces the notions of “attacker” and “defender” without specifying how the designations are determined. It’s implicit—use the Turn Sequence: “1. Both opponents roll a die [for initiative].” Unless the opponent with the high roll opts for the counter-move or wants to parley, he or she is the attacker. The other, the defender.

Melee Resolution

So, if we agree that the Turn Sequence is intended to be used with Man-to-Man Combat, then, after initiative, the opponents move, take artillery and missile fire, and at step 6: “Melees are resolved.”

Here is where the confusion between the two disparate systems comes into play. In the mass combat section, Melee Resolution is described:

“After both players have rolled the number of dice allotted to them for their meleeing troops by the Combat Tables, casualties are removed, and morale for both opponents is checked” (15).

As this is not explicitly amended in the Man-to-Man section, we expect each figure to roll once on the Man-to-Man Melee Table and, if neither hits, we wait for step 6 to come around again.

Under that assumption though, the “first blow” section cited above doesn’t make sense. For it goes on to give conditions to determine who gets the first blow on the first and subsequent rounds of melee. If each side gets only one blow per one-minute round, there would be no “2nd round and thereafter” (25), because each side would roll for initiative, which determines the attacker, at the beginning of the turn.

During the melee resolution step, each unit engaged in mass combat melee gets one throw of the dice,7 while, during the same step, figures in man-to-man melee throw dice until the outcome is decided.

Granularity

Two sides in a mass melee roll attack dice and assess damage simultaneously. High above the battlefield, where one figure represents 20 troops, we don’t see who gets the first blow and who gets the second—nor do we want to. The system simulates tens or hundreds of troops attacking and defending during one minute.

At a 1:1 figure scale, we don’t see the entire field. Hovering just overhead, we see a few individuals close up. The action is more granular. We take it as read, for example, that missile fire in mass combat considers only maximum range, whereas Man-to-Man amends missile fire to give a single archer a better chance to hit targets at short and medium ranges.

Below I enumerate some amendments to the mass combat system that imply, when fighting man-to-man, a combat round of less than one minute. There are others. These are both the most salient and the least ambiguous.

1. Rear and Flank Attacks.

“Men attacked from the rear do not return a blow on the 1st round of melee and automatically receive 2nd blow position on the 2nd round of melee. Men attacked from the left flank automatically receive 2nd blow position on the 1st round of melee” (25).

In mass combat we see attacks from the rear and flanks, but there is no second round. The action is carried to the next turn. In man-to-man, we can see the combatant turning to strike the attacker. In the case of a rear attack, he has to dodge another blow before he can reposte. If he is attacked from the flank, we see that he is right-handed.

2 Parry.

“For any weapon 1 class higher to three classes lower than the attacker the defender may parry the blow…” (25).

Above we saw in which hand he held the weapon, now we can compare its size with his opponent’s weapon. Further, at the 1:1 scale, we see the defender parry an attack. In reality, a parry happens in an instant. It’s so fast, a casual observer might not see it. Movie actors have to exaggerate the gesture to show us a parry on film.

3. Horse vs. Foot.

“When fighting men afoot, mounted men add +1 to their dice for melees and the men afoot must subtract -1… Men may be unhorsed by footmen if they specifically state this is their intent before dice are rolled” (26).

At man-to-man scale, mounted men attack with a weapon class versus an armor class, as do footmen. The difference in their disposition is accounted for by adjustments to their dice rolls. Moreover, any unhorsing is assumed in the mass melee combat tables. At 1:1, we have to state the intention and hope for success.

Conclusion

How much time does it take to turn around? How long to parry a blow or take a swing at a rider? I’m not arguing to set a number of seconds for the man-to-man combat round. My point is that the period is not stipulated and that it must be less time than the one-minute turn.

In Chainmail’s Man-to-Man Combat, a round of melee is like a round of drinks: We don’t know how much time it takes. We only hope to be upright at the end of it.

I conclude that Gygax and Perren do not intend the one-minute round for Man-to-Man Combat. Rather, the entire man-to-man melee is assumed to be resolved in the one-minute turn. The length of the man-to-man round is not specified in Chainmail nor, subsequently, in OD&D.8, 9

Notes

1 For further discussion on the topic of melee resolution in mass combat, see “Melee Rounds per Turn in Chainmail,” on the “Original D&D Discussion” forum.

2 It is rare if ever that we see the term “mass combat” in early wargames rules. When they refer to combat or melee, they speak of clashes between companies, regiments, and brigades. Individual engagements are the exception. Hence the terms “man-to-man” and “individual” melee, which are today disused.

3 I ignore the particular reference to the fantasy rules and assume Fighting Capability is interpreted within the frame of the entire ruleset.

4 It does not escape notice that, around the time Chainmail was being developed, Gygax supported a family of five as a shoe cobbler.

5 Links to Peterson’s articles about subset antecedents on his “Playing at the World” blog. Beware the rabbit hole.

6 To-Hit Rolls in Individual Medieval Combat, from Phil Barker to Chainmail

7 A caveat concerning mass combat melee: Each unit gets one throw of the dice unless, as in the case of the example (15-16), a charge is not halted in the first throw of the dice and the charging unit meets an enemy unit by the end of the charge move. In that case, the charging unit and its opponent get another throw in the same turn. A similar scenario can occur when missile troops refuse combat (15).

In the case, however, where the result of post-melee morale is “melee continues,” I read “melee continues [the next turn].” This, based chiefly on the text of Melee Resolution (15, cited above).

8 Though he stipulates a 10-second combat round, Moldvay reproduces Chainmail’s man-to-man system in a more coherent manner. The significant changes in B/X (1981) are two:

  1. The side with initiative goes through all the steps of the turn sequence before the other.
  2. All actions—melee as well as movement, spells (artillery), and missile fire—take place within the 10-second round. 

9 We don’t forget that Gygax instituted the one-minute combat round in Advanced D&D (Dungeon Master’s Guide, 1979). There, the author stated clearly his intention:

“Combat is divided into 1 minute period melee rounds, or simply rounds, in order to have reasonably manageable combat. ‘Manageable’ applies both to the actions of the combatants and to the actual refereeing of such melees. It would be no great task to devise an elaborate set of rules for highly complex individual combats with rounds of but a few seconds length. It is not in the best interests of an adventure game, however, to delve too deeply into cut and thrust, parry and riposte (61).”

If our own intention is to the contrary—that is, to delve, however deep, “into cut and thrust, parry and riposte,” which is the stuff of fantasy adventure combat since the 1980s, then the argument for “rounds of but a few seconds length” is persuasive.

Two against one, c’mon…
Solon Theros Challenges Minke Meine and Annemie Tacx.
“Two against one, c’mon…”

Ground and Figure Scale, Formations, Troop Ratio and Types

“The ratio of figures to men assumed is 1:20, the ground scale is 1″:10 yards, and one turn of play is roughly equivalent to one minute of time in battle. The troop ratio will hold true for 30mm figures, but if a smaller scale is used it should be reduced to 1:10” (Chainmail, 8).

Figure Scale

In the 2000s, I collected an embarrassing number of plastic fantasy figurines. Inexpensive and pre-painted, D&D Miniatures are 30mm scale. Perfect. Except they are mounted on a circular base. A man-sized model takes up a one-inch-diameter space, which fits in the five-foot square occupied by the character on a twenty-first century battle grid.

Wargame miniatures often have rectangular bases, which correspond to the breadth and depth of the unit represented. Transposing its one-inch base to the battlefield, my man-sized figurine represents 20 men milling about in a hundred square yards.

A wave of the hand seems an easy solution. I respect the breadth but ignore the figure’s depth. The 20 men are in formation at the front edge of the space occupied by the figure. In the case where multiple figures make two or more ranks, all troops represented are in ranks, one behind the other, irrespective of the scaled depth.

Archers in Two Ranks
Archers in Two Ranks.
Each figurine represents a number of troops in a rank across the leading edge of the front rank of figures.

Using the larger scale without also using smaller figurines impacts play in two other ways. One, areas of effect, while scaled accordingly, more frequently touch a larger base. A near miss on Gygax’s table is a hit on my table. Two, shorter distances present less spectacle. A giant hurling a rock 20 inches downrange on an eight-foot table looks the same as the scaled ten-inch throw compared to my four-foot table. But, as the giant in both cases is three inches tall, the shorter throw appears less impressive.

To compensate for the former, I might use a longer “variation measure” (Chainmail, 13) for field guns and giant throws. I’m not sure, though, that this won’t have some other unintended impact.

Ground Scale

“The playing area that the battles are fought out upon should be a table rather than the floor. It can be from a minimum of 4′ to a maximum of 7′ wide, and it should be at least 8′ in length” (Chainmail, 5).

Gygax was famous for hosting wargames on a large sand table in his basement. The largest table I have—upon which I must also dine—measures 31″ × 47″. I could run small engagements in the scaled 310-by-470 yards, but Light Horse charge across it in a single turn, and a figure anywhere on the table is a target for Longbowmen stationed in the center.

I stretch the table by doubling the ground scale. At 20 yards to the inch, the battlefield is 620 yards by almost a thousand. It’s similar to playing on a five-by-eight-foot table. But not quite. The figurines remain the same size, so they effectively take up four times the space on my battlefield than they would on Gygax’s basement table. On my table, commanders lack the same room for maneuver.

Figure-to-Troop Ratio

Because a one-inch base now stretches across 20 yards, I up the figure scale as well. At the corresponding figure scale, I could field armies the same size as Gygax, but 1:80 sounds unreasonable.

To approach the calculation another way, I count men in one rank at Bath’s “very close order” (Ancient Wargaming, 20).1 In the closest formation, each man occupies only 18 inches.

At 18″ per, 40 fighters fit in one rank 60 feet (20 yards) wide. Therefore, at 1:40, a rank of figures, bases touching, are in very close order. As per Chainmail, figures up to 1″ apart are in close order, and any farther is open order.2

Scale for the Valormr Campaign

Ground Scale: 1″ to 20 yards*
Figure Scale: 1:40
Time Scale: 1 minute per turn

* To convert, all distances given in Chainmail are halved.

Formations
Formations.
Left to right: a lone figure represents 40 troops in one rank at close order unless otherwise stated; 120 Heavy Spears, one rank, very close order; two ranks of 80 each Armored Foot, close order; two ranks3 of 160 Armored Spears, the first presents a shield wall, very close order.

Troop Types

According to Bath, light foot “wear no armor of any description, either leather or metal. They may carry a light shield and are usually but not always armed with missile weapons” (16). Gygax & Perren imply as much in the missile fire table (Chainmail, 11), where targets are categorized as unarmored, half-armor [another word for Heavy or Medium (Bath, 16)] or shield, and fully armored.

Since most any combat-capable characters in D&D wear some sort of armor, it is the rare figurine in my collection which could be considered Light Foot. I, therefore, adjudicate by case, according to my needs, whether to class a lightly-armored figure as Light or Heavy.

Furthermore, there is a dearth of mounted figures in the D&D Miniatures line. Again, I take the liberty to call any figure mounted, thus turning Foot into Horse as desired.

Light Foot and Peasants
Light Foot and Peasants.
In Champions of Chaos, these figures wearing leather armor (foreground) are classed as Light Foot. They stand in open order. Others (background) are peasants in milling-about formation.

My reading of Chainmail gives Light Foot a sore disadvantage. They move and charge at the same rate as Heavy Foot, get no more attack dice than an equal number of points of Heavy Foot, and suffer weak morale. I suspect this is by design, being historically—and logically—accurate. In historical wargames, as in early fantasy games, a force adhered to percentages of troop types. We see such orders of battle in Bath’s Hyboria, Arneson’s Blackmoor (First Fantasy Campaign), and as recently as the AD&D Monster Manual. I assume a player bought only as many Light Foot as the order of battle required. Though anachronistic, the cliché is apt—cannon fodder.

I haven’t yet worked out the orders of battle for the Valormr Campaign. These Light Foot are a nod in that direction, as are the peasants, who Solon Theros herded from the countryside to fill the ranks.

Notes

1 Bath seems to have invented the term “very close order” to differentiate from close order. Historically, close order is less strictly defined, meaning troops spaced anywhere from 18″ to 36″ apart. Gygax and Perren make no mention of “very close order.” Chainmail gives advantages to pole arms formed in close order, given as figures “1″ or less apart” (Chainmail, 40).

2 Chainmail makes no distinction of, nor has rules for, extended order. We’ll leave it at that for now.

3 Chainmail allows only a formation’s first rank of figures to engage in melee. I am not sure why that is. In the historical phalanx, men armed with spears could engage targets from the second rank and with pikes (up to 20′ long) from as far back as the fifth rank. Maybe Gygax and Perren assume each figure is in multiple ranks, but then the figure’s width cannot accurately depict the formation’s breadth.

Setting Up a Wargames Campaign

I came only recently to Tony Bath. I’d heard vague stories about a game in the misty past set in Conan’s world. Details were murky and scarce. It wasn’t clear if it was D&D or something else, and I couldn’t sort out how the game related to the archetypal barbarian.

In early 2011, while browsing the Hill Cantons, I discovered a four-part series about Bath’s Hyboria wargames campaign (December 2010). Author Chris Kutalik had got hold of a copy of Setting Up a Wargames Campaign by the legendary English wargamer. Kutalik doesn’t so much review the book as proselytize. That day I became an acolyte.

Today, we take for granted the campaign. For modern role-playing gamers, a single adventure is called a “one-shot,” and while the form has its merits, it lacks the scope, continuity, and satisfaction a campaign provides.

The Society of Ancients

Tony Bath founded the Society of Ancients and its journal Slingshot in 1965. Now in its 56th year, the society continues to thrive. It has an active members-only online forum, hosts an annual Battle Day, and still produces Slingshot bi-monthly in full color.

So it was, too, with wargamers in the 1960s. Pushing lead figures across a tabletop gets stale after a number of unrelated battles. The context, coming from historical accounts, is inflexible. The setup and tactics, again historical, are sometimes limited. Battles often ended in a slug-fest, there being no reason a general might conserve troops for the morrow.

Veering from the strictly historical wargame, campaigners step back from the table and consider the larger theater of operations. On large-scale maps showing rivers instead of streams, mountains instead of hilltops, countries instead of towns, opposing generals exercise strategy instead of tactics. They march armies, represented by pins, across the map, each general in secret from the other, until forces meet.

In the ensuing battle, the context, setup, and tactics are all determined by the preceding events and the terrain upon which the two forces find each other. Troops must be used effectively or be withdrawn to fight another day. This is the stuff of the campaign.

In Bath’s Hyboria, King Arthur and his knights waged war on Conan’s Cimmerian hordes.

In those years, Tony Bath devised the quintessential wargames campaign. But he went further, for he set the campaign in a fictitious world. He lifted the map from the end papers of a Robert Howard novel. He cribbed also the setting’s name, and so Hyboria came again to life in the second half of the twentieth century. Bath borrowed real-world cultures, both ancient and medieval, to populate the continent with peoples, whence armies were drawn.

In Bath’s Hyboria, King Arthur and his knights waged war on Conan’s Cimmerian hordes. Carthaginians struggled against Viking raiders. Picts crossed swords with Persians. Aquilonians, allied with Argives and Nemedians, laid siege to a Turanian town occupied by Hyrkanians.

Tony Bath’s Ancient Wargaming including Setting Up a Wargames Campaign

That was only the beginning. Bath describes the process and much more in amicable prose. Setting Up a Wargames Campaign was published in 1973 by Wargames Research Group. It had a second edition (1977) and a revised third edition in 1986. Copies now circulate on various reseller sites for not extraordinary prices. At the time, though, I couldn’t find any such copy.

Instead, I found a reproduction. As part of his History of Wargaming Project, John Curry, with the Society of Ancients, published Tony Bath’s Ancient Wargaming (2009, 2011), which is a reprint collection of three previously published books:

  • Peltast and Pila Ancient Wargaming Rules (Tabletop Warfare, 1976)
  • Setting Up a Wargames Campaign (WRG, 1973)
  • The Legend of Hyboria (Society of Ancients, 2005)

In setting up the Valormr Campaign, I’m using Wargames Campaign’s first three chapters, in which Bath describes the basics:

  • How to Set Up Your Campaign
  • Map Movement
  • Contacts, Battles and After Effects

I’m sure to make use of later chapters in subsequent campaigns. Furthermore, the ancient wargame rules Peltast and Pila will serve in campaigns taking place earlier in the DONJON LANDS time line.

The Valormr Campaign

Who says B/X’s 40th anniversary says Chainmail’s 50th. Before there was “the game that started it all,” there was the game that started that. Initiated by wargamer Jeff Perren and further elaborated by Gary Gygax, iterations of the rules for medieval miniatures wargames were published in zines as early as 1970.

Just prior to its 1971 publication by Guidon Games, Gygax added 14 pages of rules inspired by fantasy fiction. The “Fantasy Supplement” opened the gates on tabletop battles with wizards and heroes, elves, trolls, giants, and other fantastic and mythical creatures, including dragons. Chainmail was the steel with which Dave Arneson struck Wesely’s Braunstein flint. The spark was Blackmoor, and it ignited the flame that became DUNGEONS & DRAGONS.

“Valormr: val (war or slain) + ormr (wyrm), pronounced Val-ORM-r. During the Throrgrmir Renaissance, when the new-hatched wyrmlings prowled the dungeon, already dragons came to hasten the prophesied Age of Dragons. The dwarves called to their neighbors, who responded in force. Dragons recruited forces of Chaos to oppose them.”

—from “Empire of the Undersun”

The Valormr Campaign using Chainmail
The Valormr Campaign plays out events leading to the battle and the battle itself, using Chainmail: rules for medieval miniatures by Gary Gygax and Jeff Perren (3rd Edition, Lake Geneva, WI: Tactical Studies Rules, 1975).

Notes

For the history of D&D, see Playing at the World (Jon Peterson, San Diego: Unreason, 2012) and Designers & Dragons: The ’70s (Shannon Appelcline, Silver Springs, MD: Evil Hat, 2013).

Download Flying Tables

Preparing to use them at the table, I compiled the three Flying Tables into a PDF. Each table—by the Bluebook, for Basic and Lower Dungeons, and for Caves and Caverns—fits on its own 5½″ × 8½″ page.

For hard copy, print two pages per sheet on both sides. Then fold the page with the desired tables on the outside. A footer contains links to the Contents and to each Flying Table for quick on-screen navigation. I also made a smaller version at 2¼″ × 4″ for the small screen.

Download

Also available on the Downloads page.

Flying Dungeon Stocking Tables for Phone Flying Dungeon Stocking Tables for Print
Flying Dungeon Stocking Tables for Phone and Print.

Flying Table by Dungeon Geomorphs Sets

“Brief instructions below the ENCOUNTER KEY EXAMPLE in Set One: Basic Dungeons gives ‘Approximately 25%’ as the monster probability… While the instructions in Set Three: Lower Dungeons are the same, those in Set Two differ in one respect: In Caves and Caverns, we encounter a monster in half the rooms.”—from “Flying Dungeon Stocking Table by the Bluebook”

While sussing the Flying Table, I mentioned my surprise at the discovery that there are more monsters in caves than in dungeons. We know from the Map God’s description that the Deep Halls were “constructed and adapted from existing caverns following their dreams channeled from Amon-Gorloth itself.”

I am, therefore, determined to make the distinction between the Halls’ built dungeons and its existing caves. Below are two tables, one to match instructions from Sets One and Three and another for Set Two.

Download the Flying Dungeon Stocking Tables for Print or Phone from the Downloads page.

Compared to the Flying Table by the Bluebook

Holmes gives 33% as the chance a room contains a monster (40). The difference from the Bluebook is made up by reducing the chance for an “interesting variation” to only 3% in caves and increasing the number of empty rooms from 22% to 30% in dungeons. In both cases, the proportion of monsters with versus without treasures is the same, as is the chance for traps, which remains 20%.

For details on how and whence the tables are derived, see “Flying Dungeon Stocking Table by the Bluebook.”

Flying Dungeon Stocking Table for Basic and Lower Dungeons

d100 Result
1-4 Monsters, double treasures (special)
5-8 Monsters, double treasures (selected)
9-14 Monsters, single treasure (selected)
15-20 Monsters, single treasure (random)
21-25 Monsters, no treasure
26-30 Treasure (hidden, trapped; room appears empty)
31 Trap: transports to deeper level
32-35 Trap: scything melee weapon
36-37 Trap: falling block
38-41 Trap: spring-loaded missile
42-46 Trap: trapdoor in floor, pit “relatively shallow”
47-49 Trap: trapdoor in floor, pit 10’ deep
50 Trap: trapdoor in floor, pit 20’ deep
51-70 Interesting variation
71-100 Appears to be empty…

Flying Dungeon Stocking Table for Caves and Caverns

d100 Result
1-8 Monsters, double treasures (special)
9-16 Monsters, double treasures (selected)
17-24 Monsters, single treasure (selected)
25-40 Monsters, single treasure (random)
41-50 Monsters, no treasure
51-55 Treasure (hidden, trapped; room appears empty)
56 Trap: transports to deeper level
57-60 Trap: scything melee weapon
61-62 Trap: falling block
63-66 Trap: spring-loaded missile
67-71 Trap: trapdoor in floor, pit “relatively shallow”
72-74 Trap: trapdoor in floor, pit 10’ deep
75 Trap: trapdoor in floor, pit 20’ deep
76-78 Interesting variation
79-100 Appears to be empty…

 

Repairing B/X Rulebooks

The cover fell off last year. Forty years old in January, the rusty staples slipped through the worn crease. The problem is not uncommon.

Repair for 40th Anniversary Game
To Repair for 40th Anniversary Game.

I thought to just lay the detached cover flat face down, stretch a strip of Scotch tape along the spine, and re-staple it to the interior pages. Some advice from fellow B/X D&D fans warned me about a couple pitfalls.

First, use acid-free book tape. This advice came from a librarian, and I’m embarrassed to admit I hadn’t though of it myself. The usual invisible tape won’t last long. It will dry, crack, and fall apart. It also contains acid, which eats the cover over time, turning it yellow to start.

Second, wrap the strip of tape around the spine with the cover closed on the book. Applied flat, the tape won’t stretch around the book when it’s closed. It will rather tend to flip open.

3M also makes a Scotch brand book tape. I couldn’t find it at any of the few local stores that were open. I had to order it from the States. It arrived four months later.

Use Acid-Free Book Tape
Use Acid-Free Book Tape.

I applied the tape, half on the front cover, while the back cover was folded in the closed position, then wrapped the other half around.

Fold Tape Around Closed Cover
Fold Tape Around Closed Cover.

Tricky enough. But then I realized that, because the sticky side was exposed through the punched holes and the torn crease, I would have to cover it with another strip of tape on the inside.

Furthermore, it became obvious that any staples would need reinforcement, or they would tear right through the two layers of tape.

For this, I cut two rectangles from an index card. I may have shortened the life of the repair with the card as it was not acid-free.

Reinforce Staple Location
Reinforce Staple Location.

I cut a length of tape and laid it sticky-side up on a table, holding the ends with stones from a dismantled dwarven city terrain model. To align the rectangles to the staple locations, I laid the interior booklet next to the strip and stuck on each pre-folded rectangle. Then it was just a matter of applying the tape to the inside cover and clipping the tape ends flush to the cover with a blade.

Now to staple the cover. I was happy to discover a local print shop which had a saddle stapler. They didn’t have one the width of the original staples, which wasn’t a problem. But the staples weren’t as long either. Through the interior pages, they bent over the inside only about one millimeter.

This wouldn’t have been such a problem if, rather than two staples at the original locations, I had thought to leave the original staples in place, and use three staples, one at each end and in the middle.

Leave the Original Staples
Leave the Original Staples.

After only two weeks of use, the first folio already slipped out. I’m on a quest for long staples.

Repair Tips

Should you encounter a similar problem:

  1. Use book tape (acid-free).
  2. Tape the cover folded around the interior pages.
  3. Reinforce the staple area (also acid-free).
  4. Leave the original staples if serviceable.

Thanks to Jamie Blackman, Jerry Eblin, and other members of the Dungeons & Dragons B/X Facebook group for their advice.

Ready to Play Wyrmwyrd
Ready to Play Wyrmwyrd.

Running the Campaign

We’re almost ready to play. We’ve covered everything that happens in the depths. Left for us now is to consider what happens when our adventurers are outside the dungeon.

I want only to cover aspects critical to the scenario. I intend to run The Deep Halls as a solo game, which also serves as an impromptu pick-up game for friends. In such games, the action is focused within the dungeon’s twisted corridors; “Base Town” is for rest and resupply, sometimes—as dictated by the scenario—with a loose connection between the two, which allows for further development in play.

“It isn’t so much the wealth as what the characters might spend it on that poses a problem. Assuming they invest it to ensure the success of further explorations, the obvious acquisitions are hirelings and spell scrolls.”—from “More XP for Treasures”

One critical aspect, in the case where treasures are generous in the closed dungeon, is that we may desire to minimize the impact of over-wealthy player characters. The following points are intended to accomplish that by extracting some gold and putting pressure on the characters to return to the dungeon.

Even with normal treasure amounts, such as when using the default Flying treasure sequence: 2-1-½, the following points are worth considering, if only to preempt the occasions when the party recovers large and valuable treasures. Such windfalls are not rare in the game, and you don’t want to surprise players with a sudden necessity to convert found coins to the king’s currency at a high rate.

We want to allow magic-users to make scrolls—it’s a special capability of the class and augments the magic-user’s often limited arsenal. But we don’t want them to be too comfortable while they do it.

Likewise, a few non-player characters round out the party’s range of abilities and give the party more tactical options. Not to mention the entourage is part of the old-school experience.

Though the treasures are well hidden and often trapped, adventurers should still find them, and though the gold is reduced by fees and conversion rates, the characters should ofttimes retain great wealth. All the while, there must remain a sense of wonder in its finding and a sense of satisfaction in its judicious spending.

Reading Map

Treasures, Hidden, Trapped

“…augmenting the whole by noting where and how the treasures are protected and/or hidden.”—Monster & Treasure Assortments on the disposition of treasures

Reading “protected” as trapped or guarded by a monster, a complacent DM might be satisfied to hide or trap treasures not in close proximity to an alert monster and leave treasures with monsters otherwise unprotected. This may be a mistake in any adventure and, in a game with extra treasures to be found, is sure to lead to “no challenge, no thrill…”

I have mentioned before that M&T provides tables  (reproduced in the AD&D DMG) to assist the DM in this regard. I suggest that most—if not all—treasures should be hidden or trapped and many hidden and trapped, especially those without monsters. Leaning heavy on the tables to begin, the DM will learn, I should think, to invent other interesting containers, insidious traps, and imaginative hiding places before the tables’ options become too commonplace.

Restocking the Dungeon

Monsters reinvest a cleared room in one to four weeks. You might inform the players of this fact or let the characters learn the frequency over the course of a few return forays.

One to four is 2.5 weeks on average. A party might risk one week, maybe two, for magic-users to make scrolls. By the third week, the party is likely to be anxious to get back. To increase this comfort zone, the DM may lengthen the period by rolling more or different dice, say d6 (mean 3.5) or 2d4 (5 weeks).

We might also say that when the party passes through a previously-cleared and still-empty room the period is reset.

Base Town

A brief interlude to discuss the other critical aspect concerning the scenario as a pick-up game, which is the development of the party’s operations base. We assume the adventurers return to a town or city to recuperate between dungeon expeditions. They find there the usual necessities: inn, tavern, markets, church or temple, magic-users and thieves guilds, and a local authority. For our purpose, other than exploiting any obvious connections between town and dungeon, the “Base Town” needn’t be further described.

Organic Base Town

organic adjective

2 c : having the characteristics of an organism : developing in the manner of a living plant or animal

—Webster’s

A DM may add details before play begins as he or she sees fit or allow the base town to grow as the campaign progresses. That is, add details to the town only as necessary and only in play or as a direct result thereof.

This latter approach, in addition to reducing preparation time, allows the base town to be different only in ways that relate to the campaign and to the player characters. Moreover, ideas may come from elsewhere in the table’s brain array. The players then feel some agency in the base town’s development, and it becomes as much home as base.

Whether mundane or fantastic, if an element departs from the ordinary for a medieval fantasy town, it is somehow important to the story. This is not a rule but the result of the guideline: add details only as necessary in play.

The Church Connection

An obvious connection between Base Town and The Deep Halls we might make from the beginning is the local religious authority. To allow the seed to grow, we keep this connection loose. Let’s say the local clergy knows only that a sect of priests constructed a dungeon in the wilderness. The clerics do not know the dungeon’s exact location, the nature of the sect, or its goals.

Church or Temple

I use “church” for the local religious authority. In my mind, a church is dedicated to a monotheistic deity—or at least the chief among lesser gods—and a temple is dedicated to a pantheon of gods or a single god among a pantheon. The DM, of course, may use church or temple and define them as desired.

Wealth Extraction

“If the Gentle Reader thinks that the taxation he or she currently undergoes is a trifle strenuous for his or her income, pity the typical European populace of the Middle Ages.”—Gary Gygax, Advanced D&D Dungeon Master’s Guide (TSR Games, 1979)

In the DMG’s chapter on “THE CAMPAIGN,” Gygax devotes a section to the careful extraction of excess wealth from the game. Under the summary heading “DUTIES, EXCISES, FEES, TARIFFS, TAXES, TITHES, AND TOLLS” (90), he covers the diverse taxation practices of medieval Europe and gives examples from a town in “the typical fantasy milieu.” We may apply a few methods to our scenario.

The purpose of the Gygax tax is to remove some wealth—once we’ve got the XP out of it. To avoid tedium, we consider only methods that take large sums. We don’t mess with a few coins here and there or even percentages in the single digits. We target rather the tithe level and above, and we institute the methods from the first town visit. The extraction should seem to the characters normal and become routine. Players may learn to envision 90% of the great mound of treasure as they shovel coins into large sacks.

Parenthetical amounts below are suggestions only.

Magic-users Guild: An annual fee (100 g.p.) gives access to spells when gaining a level as well as access to a research library for free (10 g.p. per visit for non-members). At 9th-level and above, the fee is ten times the base rate (1,000 g.p.) and also grants laboratory space.

Thieves Guild: A thief character is expected to pay the annual fee (100 g.p.). Any who are not aware of the custom are reminded by a group of the guild master’s thugs in ungentle fashion. Among the typical benefits, a member may hire adventuring thieves and inquire about potential buyers for particularly interesting and valuable treasures. All “benefits” come at the price of bribes, payoffs, and kickbacks (100 - 1,000 g.p or from 10 to 50% of the transaction).

The Church: The devout, including most clerics, attend services and rituals, purchase holy water, and regular tithers may consult the small collection of religious texts. Regular tithers, moreover, may receive, at higher levels, special consideration when in need of healing or other forms of clerical aid, such as cures and curse removal, up to restoration of life.

Restorative Spells: The progressive degrees of clerical aid are freely available to all faithful followers of the local religion. This, at the discretion of the clerics, who reserve their daily spells for the devout and hard-working local folk who don’t put themselves in harm’s way in dark places. Those who do not tithe, or who are less than devout, may receive such aid at the cost of a donation (1,000 g.p. × spell level or 1,000 g.p. × caster level or as high as 1,000 g.p. × the square of the spell level; raise dead then requires a 5,000 to 25,000 g.p. donation).

Money Changer: Assume any precious metal pieces hauled out of the dungeon are not “coin of the realm” but foreign and ancient monies. These are not accepted in local shops, for there is a steep fine (50%) for possession of foreign currency. To avoid the fine, holders of such coin, upon entry to the town, must declare the illegal tender at the gate and proceed immediately to the money changer’s office. The two are in close proximity. The money changer takes 10% for the local authority.

Buying and Selling Gems and Jewelry: Gems, jewelry, and other such valuables can be bought and sold at the money changer’s or at the markets. A luxury tax (10%) is exacted.

Robbery: The innkeeper advises against storing wealth in a “secret place” at the inn or elsewhere and declares the establishment free of responsibility. Assume that any treasure so hidden—and unguarded—will be robbed in the character’s absence 20% of the time.

Bank: More secure than under the mattress, renting a coffer at the bank is just as sure to be safe as it is to have a cost (10 g.p. per month for a small coffer—holds up to 300 coins; 30 g.p. per month for a large coffer—1,000 coins; and 200 g.p. for a chest—10,000 coins). The banker assures the characters that the vault, as the property of the local authority, is guarded by men-at-arms and magical wards. Any robbery attempt should prove the vault secure and put the criminals in another dungeon or under the executioner’s axe.

Upkeep: Taking as examples the Travelers Inn and the next-door Tavern from The Keep on the Borderlands, we may fix daily upkeep at one gold piece for lodging, another for food, and a third for drink. We might round that off to 20 g.p. per week, then raise it to 30 g.p. per week per character to include incidentals.

The Complaints Department

If players complain about the dwindling trove, you might simply explain the meta-game rationale: the dungeon is full of treasure to allow a clever party to gain enough experience to be viable opponents against deeper-level denizens; excess wealth is extracted.

If characters complain, you might give a name to the local authority, to whom they may direct their ire.

Hireling Health and Happiness

The number of hirelings is limited to some degree by the characters’ Charisma scores. Still, at five non-players for each character, we have a large troop blundering in the dungeon.

Hiring

“The player wishing to hire a non-player character ‘advertises’ by posting notices at inns and taverns, frequents public places seeking the desired hireling, or sends messengers to whatever place the desired character type would be found (elf-land, dwarf-land, etc.). This costs money and takes time…” (Holmes, 8)

Holmes proposes 100 g.p. × the roll of a six-sided dice for the inquiry alone. I have balked at this figure for going on 40 years. In the case where the player characters are in possession of such wealth, though, it seems not unjustified.

We might say, without getting into great detail, that each class type is found in different venues: fighting men at the inn or tavern, clerics at the church, and magic-users and thieves from the guilds. Further, to enable Holmes’s reference to elf- and dwarf-lands, let’s assume those races are not common in the immediate region and that adventuring hobbits are likewise scarce.

Holmes goes on to suggest 100 g.p. as a minimum incentive to join the party. If we borrow the HOSTILE/FRIENDLY REACTION TABLE (Holmes, 11) for the purpose (as in OD&D but not specified in Holmes), offers of 200 g.p. and higher garner a bonus on the roll, and “uncertain” reactions require the hiring character to “make another [higher] offer” before another roll is made.

Reputation

The party with a reputation for good pay and decent treatment finds hirelings when desired. A generous party or individual characters may find that hirelings seek their employ. Conversely, if the party earns a poor reputation, the hireling pool may run dry—the minimum offer doubles and trebles and penalties on the reaction table accrue.

Pay and Bonuses: In addition to the initial incentive, hirelings should be rewarded with an equal share of treasure. Extra coin and magic items are considered bonuses and increase the employer’s reputation.

Party Success and Hireling Survival Rate: An oft-ignored factor in considering a party’s reputation is their overall success in adventures and how often they return with a lifeless hireling over a shoulder or, worse, without the hireling at all. Adjust enticements and reaction rolls accordingly.

How Many Hirelings Too Many?

As long as everyone is having fun, it isn’t too many. Two points to be aware of are overcrowding and combat encounter length.

If the group enjoys a good long melee, they are well served by a large entourage. There is, however, a point of diminishing returns. As party size grows, so does the number of monsters per encounter. Space, determined by map scale, limits the number of party members that can get in the room. The party that cannot bring its full force to bear against the larger number of monsters loses the melee—though the door is well guarded.

For melee-loving groups, consider a larger map scale. Not by coincidence, at 30 feet per square, the scale becomes ten yards, and The Deep Halls a battlefield. The dreaming priests in their reverie now command an army, and your old copy of Chainmail gains new life.

After figuring the volume required for coins (see Note 2, “Recalculating a Coin’s Weight”), I revised the rents and sizes of bank storage. [17:15 6 February 2022 GMT]

Rules and Supplements

The Flying Dungeon Stocking Table reflects the stocking methods given in the Holmes edition with supplements Monster & Treasure Assortments and Dungeon Geomorphs. The idea that gets me further than the head voice saying, “Bluebook D&D!” is to use M&T for random monsters and treasures.

Basic D&D (1977) only goes to 3rd level though, and you might have another rules preference. These are my notes on using other old-school editions1 with the Flying Table.

The Bluebook for Higher-Level Play

Should your dungeon-level configuration go down to Level 4, rules for 4th-level characters are easily extrapolated from the Holmes edition. For deeper halls, the tunnel branches in multiple directions. One might recreate the experience of playing Holmes through the 3rd- and into 4th-level of play then switching to AD&D, as Holmes suggests, or adding the D&D Expert Rulebook. To ensure continuity with all these options, continue using the Flying Table with M&T.

Another alternative, beginning with the Bluebook, is to extrapolate rules for higher levels oneself. You might draw on OD&D and its Supplements I-IV in addition to your own inspiration. For suggestions and guidelines, if such are necessary, we needn’t look further than the Zenopus Archives. There, we find that many others have explored these tunnels before us. Zenopus links a number of resources on the Rules Expansions page.

Other Editions

Among old-school D&D editions, the rules don’t change so much the nature of The Deep Halls as do the contents-stocking method and the monster encounter tables.

OD&D

“Original” DUNGEONS & DRAGONS (1974) is Holmes’s source for Basic D&D, and the Monster & Treasure Assortments were made for the original edition. Therefore, the Flying Table meshes with OD&D as well as it does Holmes.

AD&D

With the Advanced edition (1977-79) you might use the Flying Table without risk of falling. For to get all the goodness out of those rules, though, consider using the AD&D DMG’s Appendix A, which provides a similar stocking method. Since you have the map already, ignore tables up to TABLE V. F.: CHAMBER OR ROOM CONTENTS (171). Rolling on that table leads you to other tables and other appendices to fill the rooms.

Random Treasure in the DMG

TABLES V. H, I, and J are copied word-for-word from M&T’s TREASURE IS CONTAINED IN, GUARDED BY, AND HIDDEN BY/IN tables. Only the dice roll and chance for each, adapted to a d20, is modified.

When I say “consider” above, I mean “consider carefully.” Where one roll on the Flying Table indicates basic contents, Appendix A requires a short succession of dice rolls.

More importantly, TABLE V. F. produces contents in proportions much different from the Flying Table. Fewer monsters inhabit the dungeon, for example. Furthermore, only 5% of rooms contain a “Special,” likewise for “Trick/Trap,” and fully 60% of rooms are empty. There is an echo in these Deep Halls.

DUNGEON LEVEL X

If you’re tempted by Appendix A, check out the DUNGEON LEVEL X encounter matrix (DMG 179) and consider a deeper configuration for The Halls. What might the priests be doing with demon princes, liches, and elder titans in the halls on the lowest level?

B/X

The Flying Table swoops within a few percentage points of the adored tables in Moldvay’s section E. STOCK THE DUNGEON (B52). Using these rules, either stocking method works with monsters and treasures from M&T.

B/X’s Wandering Monsters tables present different inhabitants, though they are not strangers to each other. It’s in determining treasure where B/X may present a problem. If you’re a DM winging it for a group, all those rolls on the treasure table plus division for smaller encounters can slow the game. On the other hand, if you’re flying solo, generating treasures can be an exciting part of the experience.

Notes

1 I refrain from a recitation of the litany of old-school “retroclones,” available thanks to Wizards of the Coast’s Open Game License. Popular clones include Swords & Wizardry (Frog God Games, 2008—for OD&D), Blueholme (Dreamscape Design, 2014—Basic D&D), OSRIC (Black Blade, 2013—AD&D), and (for B/X) Labyrinth Lord (Goblinoid Games, 2009) and Old-School Essentials (Necrotic Gnome, 2020). To all these, my notes for their source edition apply.

Holmes Basic Monster and Treasure Assortment Dice and The Deep Halls Map by Dyson Logos
All You Need to Adventure in The Deep Halls: Holmes Basic D&D, Monster and Treasure Assortments, Dice, and the Map by Dyson Logos.