When Dungeons & Dragons was first released, it was in a boxed set holding three booklets -- vol. 1, Men & Magic; vol. 2, Monsters & Treasure; and vol. 3, The Underworld & Wilderness Adventures. My copies are from the sixth printing (exact year unknown, but most likely 1977). I will be reviewing Men & Magic (and D&D in general) in this part. Part two will cover vols. 2 and 3 and include playtesting review.
Vol. 1, Men & Magic, is the real meat to Dungeons & Dragons. All of the game mechanics are introduced in this volume -- mechanics that should seem familiar to D&D players from any edition of the game -- arranged in the following order: Character Classes, Character Races, Alignment, Abilities, Languages, Non-Player Characters (includes mechanics for loyalty and morale), Basic Equipment and Costs, Levels, Experience Points (xp), Hit Dice (HD), “Alternative” Combat System (alternative to the Chainmail miniature rules), Saving Throws, Spell Tables, Undead Turning, and Magical Research (for new spells).
The order of coverage seems haphazard (Alignment before Abilities? Languages before Levels and Hit Dice?), though this reflects changes in priorites as the game has evolved. More curious is that some sections (classes and races, spells and undead turning) are lumped together in the table of contents (also curiously called an index though it makes for an even worse index).
The introduction offers a brief synopsis of the three volumes. It also refers to players who plan to use D&D “in an existing campaign.” Frequent references to the Chainmail miniature rules, a plug for Avalon Hill’s Outdoor Survival game, and the combat system being dubbed “alternative” further indicate that D&D may have been intended as supplemental rules rather than a stand-alone game.
The foreword (also missing from the table of contents/index) includes a short history of how Dungeons & Dragons began, mentions both the Blackmoor and Greyhawk campaigns, and ends with a short inspirational reading list -- Burroughs, Leiber, Camp & Pratt -- that is particularly illuminating as to what a D&D campaign was meant to be like. One must look closely to see the influence of these authors, for it is more subtle than the presence of Tolkein in D&D (more on that later). Burroughs and Leiber both wrote high fantasy adventure. Camp & Pratt’s literate but tongue-in-cheek fantasy help round out the tone of D&D. How else can one explain a rulebook written with college-level diction about a game where you go into a 10’x10’ room, kill four orcs, and loot their treasure for no discernable motive? And, make no mistake, that example is what original D&D (OD&D) is all about. It has no pretentions of being comprehensive or even meaningful. The section called “Preparation for the Campaign” explains that play can begin as soon as the “referee” (the term Dungeon Master was not in use yet) has drawn a map of six or more dungeon levels and keyed monsters and treasure to each room.
Now a brief aside -- does Men & Magic succeed at this task? Is the game quick and easy to play? Aside from the historical value of these volumes (which automatically rate them perfect scores in that context), the above questions are really the only fair way to evaluate them. I will in the course of this review compare the rules from Men & Magic to later incarnations of the game where I find the comparisons illuminating, but these differences do not necessarily show where OD&D was lacking so much as where OD&D’s goals were different. D&D today has more classes, more races, more choices in almost every way. It is a flexible system. OD&D was not designed to be a flexible system. It supports a narrow vision of the sword & sorcery sub-genre, with wargame-like scenarios.
In OD&D, the three Character Classes are fighting-men (fighters), magic-users (wizards), and clerics. Fighting-men and magic-users are, obviously, the definitive sword & sorcery archetypes. Clerics, though uncommon in the sub-genre, are essential to the game as healers. In terms of game mechanics, the fighting-men are little different other than marginally higher hit points (1d6+1 instead of 1d6), the ability to use any magic weapons, but the inability to cast spells. Magic-users, obviously, have spells, but can only defend themselves with daggers. Clerics are essentially fighters (limited only in not being able to use magical edged weapons) who can “turn” undead (force them to flee), and slowly gain spells over time (they get none at 1st level!).
The four Character Races are dwarves, elves, halflings (hobbits in earlier printings), and humans. The non-human races were lifted straight from Tolkein, right down to their plural spellings. The trappings of Tolkein’s novels are pervasive in D&D, but with neither the tone nor flavor of them. Indeed, the non-humans are presented in such a generic fashion that they could almost be called anything else. Each of the non-human races have special abilities (some only alluded to from Chainmail) beyond what humans can do. In theory, this is balanced out by level limits placed on the non-humans. Though human characters can advance as high as they want, halflings cannot advance beyond 4th level, elves cannot advance as fighters beyond 4th level, and dwarves cannot advance beyond 6th level. Whether or not level limits succeeded at maintaining game balance was hotly debated for decades until the rule was removed.
Carried over from Chainmail is Alignment,a pseudo-mechanic that categorizes characters in terms of where they stand in the universal conflict of law vs. chaos. The law vs. chaos theme came from the works of Poul Anderson and Michael Moorcock (not cited in the Foreword, but important influences in this regard). Good and evil are not yet Alignment terms in D&D, being used in the booklet only as adjectives describing clerics.
The six abilities, Strength, Intelligence, Wisdom, Constitution, Dexterity, and Charisma, are given short shrift. Their value range of 3 to 18 is mostly subjective, as there are almost no game mechanics that distinguish one number from another. Intelligence affects number of languages, Constitution affects Hit Points (and a percent “chance of survival” that is never explained, but appears in later editions as a system shock/ressurection survival roll), Dexterity affects missile fire and initiative, Charisma affects maximum number of hirelings and loyalty modifiers, but Strength and Wisdom (the prime requisites for fighters and clerics, mind you) confer no bonuses or penalties to anything. Granted, high scores in the prime requisites award bonus Experience Points, whereas low scores actually penalize characters xp.
Languages are covered quickly and vaguely. Each race has just one language (so that all dwarves speak Dwarven, orcs Orcish, etc.), but the paragraph implies that humans do not follow that rule. There is a “common tongue” for humans, but also “divisional languages” that match the Alignment system. The meaning of the Alignment Tongues was hotly disputed for decades, with most people favoring them as a kind of slang all Lawful or Chaotic people speak.
The section on Non-Player Characters gives the first indication of what the economy of a D&D campaign world would be like (“As a rule of thumb, a minimum offer of 100 Gold Pieces would be required to tempt a human into service”). No silver standard here. There are three paragraphs on bequeathing a character’s wealth to “relatives” (i.e., new characters). This concept of binding wills remained in several editions of D&D after this one, but was never encouraged in AD&D or the current edition. It was a meta-gaming concept for being fair to players whose characters had been killed, but made little in-game sense (“What? We have to share our treasure with his Cousin Joe?”).
The Equipment section has a page-full of items that would be useful in combat, exploring a dungeon environment, or transporting treasure from the dungeon to town. Costs are given in Gold Pieces only, further suggesting a high rate of inflation. The following page gives encumberance values for most items and suggested penalties to movement for characters carrying too much. The referee and players are meant to know the movement system from Chainmail well enough to know that an Armored Footman moves 6”/turn, even though the term “armored footman” has no particular meaning in D&D.
Halfway through the booklet, the concept of levels is introduced (unfortunate placement, since the concept of levels is integral to the entire game), including how they are earned with Experience Points and how they pertain to Hit Dice (“Dice for Accumulative Hits”) and spell progression. Each level for each class also has its own title (veteran, warrior, swordsman, etc.) -- subjective appellations that might have had been intended to spur role-playing, but instead puzzled generations of D&D gamers who didn’t get why the level titles were detached from game mechanics. Interestingly, the paragraph on Experience Points suggests awarding xp relative to the challenge involved (as a ratio of the character level to the dungeon level). Later editions of the game downplayed the subjective nature of xp until the most current editions. Hit Points are explained but not called that by name yet. Though none of the class-level tables go higher than 16th level, there are brief provisions (Hit Dice and spells) for taking characters as high as 19th level.
The Alternative Combat System consists of two Attack Matrixes, one for “men attacking” and one for “monsters attacking.” Each matrix compares level of Hit Dice to armor type, giving the lowest number needed “to hit.” If you hit, damage is determined by rolling 1d6 -- period. With some variations, this system has been the cornerstone of D&D’s combat system ever since.
The Saving Throw, or a random chance of not being harmed, is another innovation that has been present in every edition of D&D. It is different here only in that the categories are broken down as follows: death ray or poison; wands, polymorph, and paralyzation; petrification; dragon breath; and staves and spells. Future editions performed minor editing on these categories to make them seem less arbitrary. The latest editions have radically altered the categories, but the concept remains the same.
Like most D&D books to follow, the section on spells is a major component. In this edition, magic-user spells run from 1st to 6th level, 70 spells in all. Only eight of these spells are available to 1st or 2nd level magic-users. There is an even stronger emphasis on combat-related spells than future editions, though the 1st level list includes no spells that cause damage (though, with Charm Person and Sleep available, a magic-user is not hurting for offensive capabilities). Cleric spells run from 1st to 5th level, 26 in all. The limited selection makes it even clearer than future editions that the cleric is intended for healing. All spells are generic in name and function (no Tenser’s Floating Discs or Mordenkainen’s Faithful Hound yet).
Lastly, there is a short (less than a page) section on magical research and spellbooks. It mainly discusses costs involved.
In evaluating the content of these volumes, it is important to remember that OD&D was the first of its kind, its closest precedents being wargames and Chainmail in particular. It was intended for a small audience and had no direct competition. That means making it attractive to shelf browsers was never a concern -- all the more obvious because this is not a pretty book. The illustrations are almost laughably bad throughout (though the cover art depicting a fighter is fair and an interior drawing of a “beautiful witch” and an “amazon” is ...revealing).
It is also worth noting that problems with the rules were caught and changed early in the days of OD&D, but always in supplements or entirely different editions of the game. The OD&D volumes themselves went mostly untouched, as if they were already recognized as historical relics.
Much of the nitpicking I have done over the past few pages does not nullify that Men & Magic, for the most part, succeeds at its own limited goals. A character can be created in just a few minutes, with purchasing equipment being the longest task. By sticking to archetypal characters and the well-known Tolkein races, the book is spared from lengthy sections explaining them all. Few game mechanics have lengthy explanations, allowing much room for individual interpretation, yet the combat system itself is clear and so simple that players new to the game could begin fighting immediately and sort out the remainder of the rules later.
Some aspects of the rules have long been seen as weaknesses, but only from a subjective view. The weakness of magic-users at lower levels and the weakness of human compared to non-human characters, for examples, are seen as problems by some and mere challenges by others. Yet there are some instances were the rules truly fail. The ambiguous Alignment system, troublesome even in later editions, is practically useless here. The lack of any benefit for having a high Strength score, in a game that revolves around combat, is unfortunate. The lack of clearer guidelines for awarding xp is unforgiveable.
For all its faults, Men & Magic is a truly important document in Dungeons & Dragons history. Almost every aspect of the game still in use today appears here, at its genesis, in raw, primal form.
