Here’s what I love most about B/X...

Ten distinctives that set this version of the game apart

In junior high, I purchased the second edition of the Dungeons & Dragons Basic Rules, now known, along with its companion booklet (the 1981 D&D Expert Rules) as B/X. Over the past four decades, I’ve followed the many subsequent editions of the game, but B/X remains my touchstone. This is more than nostalgia. The D&D Basic Rules, edited by Tom Moldvay, are a classic of the role playing game industry.

Since this might seem strange to those mostly familiar with more recent editions, I’ve compiled a “top 10” list of the reasons I love B/X:

10. “For 3 or More Adults, Ages 10 and Up”
In the early 1980s, Dungeons & Dragons made inroads with the younger generation. Dave Arneson (a Baby Boomer), and Gary Gygax (a member of the Silent Generation), created D&D, and released it through TSR Hobbies, Inc. (TSR). Between its original release in 1975, and the publication of B/X in 1981, the game spread among other Baby Boomers, on college campuses and in high schools. TSR marketed B/X specifically to new players, many of them the younger siblings and cousins of original players.

Before it went mainstream (and perhaps today, although there are more options now) D&D appealed to smart, imaginative kids in a way many other hobbies didn’t. I remember, as a young teenager at the time, living in the shadow of my older brother, wanting to do what he was doing, with my parents continually telling me I wasn’t “old enough.” When I discovered D&D (introduced to it, ironically, by my brother, who didn’t take to it himself) a new world of possibilities opened up. In D&D I could be anything I wanted to be, do anything I wanted to do, and no one told me I needed to wait until I got older. The rulebook itself reinforced this—Moldvay writes in an easy-to-understand style, but doesn’t “talk down” to his audience. A statement on the covers of both the Basic and Expert rules reads:

“The Original Fantasy Role Playing Game For 3 Or More Adults, Ages 10 and Up.”

I, and apparently a lot of other Gen Xers in the early ‘80s, were looking for someone to give us the same respect and consideration we were expected to give to grow-ups. The new version of D&D did so, and it resonated (and still resonates) with many of us.

9. Short, simple, and streamlined
TSR also published Advanced Dungeons & Dragons (AD&D), beginning with the Monster Manual in 1977, the Players Handbook in 1978, and the Dungeon Master’s Guide in 1979. A decade later, in 1989, TSR, Inc. (a successor company to the previous TSR) released AD&D, Second Edition (2e). Both versions, and every subsequent edition (as well as the third edition of D&D Basic, commonly known today as BECMI—the Basic, Expert, Companion, Master, and Immortals rules), share two common qualities—their rules are both lengthy, and significantly more complex than B/X.

The genius of Moldvay’s Basic Rules, and the D&D Expert Rules by Zeb Cook and Steve Marsh, is each fits its material into a standardized, 64-page format. The B/X rules total less than 130 pages—shorter than a single volume of the three-book core sets published for more recent editions.

In RPG design, brevity is a virtue—over the course of a single afternoon, players can purchase, read, understand, and begin their game using Moldvay’s Basic Rules. Perhaps one can say the same about the 1977 first edition of the D&D Basic Rules—but few other versions. Following the advent of AD&D, the trend has been toward increasing complexity and expansive rules to cover a plethora of in-game circumstances. In this respect, the various editions differ with regard to one another—but few, if any, come close to the concision of B/X.

This succinctness is also another way B/X respects the intelligence and maturity of its players. The rules establish a framework for how to play the game; the Dungeon Master and the other players adapt this framework to novel situations arising during play. Rather than providing hundreds of pages of rules covering a vast array of possibilities, B/X offers an easy method for adjudicating any circumstance—supporting an effectively endless variety of play experiences.

8. Ten minute character generation
D&D players who haven’t tried B/X may not understand the joys of fast character generation.

Ever since Dungeons & Dragons, Third Edition (some might even argue since late 2e), character generation has become a mini-game, focused on developing highly effective (mostly in combat) character “builds”, which incorporate class abilities, feats, powers, etc.—the exact elements vary by edition.

This can make character generation very time consuming. It’s not unheard of for a new group to spend an entire multi-hour session mostly creating characters. This is due not only to the time required for character generation itself, but to the system mastery needed to optimize one’s build. Less experienced players may want those with more knowledge of the rules to review their character concept, then advise them on the best combination of elements (found, perhaps, in multiple core books and supplements) to produce the desired result.

This is foreign to B/X, where the character classes are builds—combinations of race and profession designed to capture various archetypes found in sword & sorcery fiction. Once a player chooses a character class, there are no choices to make, beyond a starting spell for a magic-user or an elf character, and of course the equipment any character needs. The entire process takes around 10 minutes. Even if some players have trouble making up their minds about which class to choose, it’s still possible to create characters at the beginning of the first session, then spend most of the time in actual play. B/X maximizes a very limited resource for many D&D players—time spent playing the game, as opposed to time spent preparing to play the game.

7. Players are more important than characters
One of the aspects of B/X that engaged me from the start is the challenge of surviving the dungeon, finding the treasure, and bringing it home. This version of D&D emphasizes the exploration pillar of the game over both the combat and social pillars.

Many readers will have fond memories of epic fights in B/X. Of course, B/X has combat (just as it has social interaction)—it’s just not the primary focus. As far as character survival and advancement are concerned, combat is the least preferable option in most situations. If possible, avoidance, evasion, and negotiation are typically better choices. A lot of characters die while B/X players are learning this lesson—after which, I expect, the character survival rate in most groups goes up significantly.

And that’s the point. In B/X, the dungeon is a puzzle—a pseudo-Darwinian simulation, in which certain choices are more conducive to survival than others. For characters, progress in the game is measured in experience levels. For players, however, progress is measured in learning which choices lead to character longevity (and thus, higher experience levels).

This is one reason B/X is unapologetic about potentially being so very lethal for player characters. The game isn’t really about the characters, any more than a game of tennis is about the ball, a game of chess is about the pieces, or a game of Halo is about Master Chief.

Yes, computer RPGs have a story, somewhat like the story the players build with their characters while exploring a dungeon in B/X. This story, however, isn’t the purpose of the game—just as producing a list of the moves used in a chess match isn’t the purpose of chess. The purpose of a game is to test the skill of the player(s); progress in the game is measured by how much that skill improves over time.

B/X players can, and do, enjoy playing out their fantasies at the table (physical or virtual)—but they can build stronger, more cohesive stories if they know how to keep their characters alive. Learning to do this—in the face of authentic, significant challenges—is the true source of satisfaction in B/X. The memories and “war stories” are simply ways in which this satisfaction is expressed.

Sometimes, it seems RPG players forget that the level written on the character sheet is ultimately irrelevant. Player characters, after all, aren’t real. They can’t laugh, cry, enjoy the game, or be upset by it. Outside the imaginations of the players and the DM, the characters don’t exist. The players, on the other hand, can experience all of this, and more. The game is meant to serve the players, not their fictional characters. Like any other game, it does this by challenging the players to get better at playing the game itself.

6. Narrative Search
I love narrative search. I have always loved narrative search. This may be the aspect of D&D that hooked me first. Putting myself in the scene, visualizing what I would see if I were my character, imagining what I would do if I were actually there, describing my actions to the DM, and being rewarded by the thrill of discovery—to me, this is the core of the D&D experience. I enjoy it more than combat, which always carries a level of abstraction—dice and figures and stats—pulling you out of the imaginary world.

I find efforts to make searching work more like combat, with “spot” or “perception” rolls against difficulty classes, to be far less satisfying. I don’t want to roll dice—I want to explore a fantastic world. B/X lets me do that.

5. Identifying magic items
Magic is wondrous. Magic is perilous. Above all, magic is mysterious. Each of these qualities is supported and enhanced through the magic item identification rules in B/X.

While any cleric—and those magic users and elves who select the spell—can detect magic at first level, neither the Basic nor the Expert rules provide an “identification” spell. There is no “easy button” to figure out what an item detected as magical actually does.

Instead, characters have two ways to identify unknown magic items. One method is to carry their discoveries out of the dungeon, find a high level magic user, and pay them confiscatory amounts of gold to take several weeks in determining the nature of each object. The other is to test the items themselves—using a charge from a wand, taking a sip of a potion, trying on a cloak, etc. This method is effective, but it isn’t safe (remember, magic is perilous). Some “potions” are just bottles of poison. Some items are cursed—testing the item will almost always cause the curse to fall upon the character performing the test (cursed weapons and armor are exceptions—see p. B48 of the Basic Rules).

Enforcing this method of identification makes finding magic items—like many other events in B/X—an exercise in balancing risk against reward. Mechanically, magic is a provision in the rules allowing characters to break the rules. This is a very powerful ability, and it should come at a cost—just like in the sword & sorcery fiction that inspires D&D. Whether it’s a cost in money and time (if the characters hire someone else to do it), or in the risk of mistakenly drinking poison (if they choose to test items themselves), magic found in the dungeon shouldn’t be free.

4. Reaction Tables
If the player characters spend any time at all in the dungeon, they’re going to meet others—whether monsters or NPCs. In B/X, the DM can personally determine how each of these groups and individuals respond—or they can rely on the Monster Reactions table. In many cases, I prefer the table.

From watching others run the game, I’ve learned my own instincts aren’t always the best. Sometimes, improvising a response based on rolling dice can take the game in directions even I wouldn’t have anticipated—and that can be more fun for everyone! I love a living world that grows and develops beyond the confines of my own imagination. The Monster Reactions table provides the random seeds that enable such growth.

The Retainer Reactions table is similar, providing a method to determine how adventurers-for-hire respond to employment offers, even if I haven’t fully fleshed-out their personalities, motivations, and goals. I might prepare four NPCs looking for work, but as long as I leave it up to the reaction table, even I don’t know which (if any!) will ultimately accompany the party into the dungeon. Nothing keeps a campaign fresh like a combination of elements you wouldn’t have chosen yourself.

3. Morale
One of the biggest problems in any version of D&D is combat grind. Fast, dynamic combat can be riveting. Overlong, boring fights that drag on and on are worse than no combat at all. Now and then, every version of D&D falls victim to combat grind—but B/X less frequently than some others. The most important reason for this may be the morale rules.

Not every fight has to be to the death. Not only is this repetitive, it’s also unreasonable. Opponents fighting for their survival, for food, or for loot have no motivation to throw their lives away in a battle with the player characters. It makes perfect sense for enemies like this to retreat if a fight is going against them, and if they cannot retreat, then perhaps to surrender. These options are easy to overlook in the competitive atmosphere of combat—players and DMs can get tunnel vision, looking no further ahead than the next combat round.

In B/X, morale checks give the DM the opportunity to insert a couple of “firebreaks” into the combat sequence, where the monsters or NPCs fighting the characters evaluate their situation, and decide whether or not it makes sense to fight on. A failed morale check can cut a combat short with a retreat or a surrender, giving the player characters a victory without forcing them to fight to the bitter end. This adds variety and unpredictability to combat scenarios, and makes fights that do go all the way that much more engaging. It also serves as an example to the PCs that discretion can be the better part of valor—sometimes, when you are overmatched, running away makes the most sense. This is a valuable lesson in B/X, where survival depends on making wise choices about which risks to take, and which to avoid.

2. Inspirational Source Material
This may be my favorite part of Moldvay’s Basic Rules. While more recent editions of D&D have tended to emulate fantasy movies, television shows, and video games, early versions are very “bookish”. As a bibliophile myself, I love this! What drew me to D&D originally was the opportunity to experience the sort of adventures I read about in J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, as well as C.S. Lewis’s The Chronicles of Narnia.

While the influence of “Appendix N: Inspirational and Educational Reading”, in the original Dungeon Master’s Guide, is legendary among D&D players, I prefer the “Inspirational Source Material” section of the Basic Rules—it’s much more comprehensive. Whereas “Appendix N” lists 28 distinct authors or editors of fantasy fiction, and 22 distinct works, “Inspirational Source Material” lists 63 distinct authors or editors (several overlapping with those in “Appendix N”) and 126 distinct works and series (again, with overlap). “Inspirational Source Material” offers a great deal of what is included in “Appendix N”, and much more besides—including separate fiction and non-fiction sections for both children and adults. Moldvay didn’t undertake this effort alone. A credit at the end of the Basic Rules recognizes Barbara Davis, the Lake Geneva Public Library Children’s Librarian, for compiling part of the list.

I’m glad the Basic Rules cite such a solid literary foundation, encouraging players and DMs to read from original sources. The more D&D leans into its fantasy fiction roots—in particular, the sword & sorcery subgenre—the stronger it is as a game, enabling more immersive and captivating imaginary worlds.

1. B4: The Lost City
DMs have different perspectives on published adventures. Some rely on them almost exclusively, some believe the “one true way” is to create your own adventures (and that your own adventures are “always better), some “wing it” every session, and some mix two or more of these. My own style tends to combine published adventures and improvisation. Although I agree hombrewing—complete with maps, notes, and unique monsters/NPCs—is the pinnacle of the art, I’ve never felt I had sufficient time to do it justice.

Perhaps this is why I’m so impressed with the 1982 TSR module B4: The Lost City, written by Tom Moldvay—as both a published adventure, and a training tool to help DMs learn to create their own scenarios.

Calling The Lost City an “adventure” doesn’t truly do it justice. Moldvay has created a whole setting in 28 pages, including guidance and exercises to help DMs flesh out the world themselves. If the Basic Rules are an RPG classic, then The Lost City is an adventure masterpiece.

Moldvay draws on pulp fantasy fiction for some of his adventures, and the Lost City is a prime example. The setting is an obvious homage to two Conan stories by Robert E. Howard—The Slithering Shadow (also known as Xuthal of the Dusk), and Red Nails.

From The Slithering Shadow, Moldvay borrows the ideas of a city lost in the desert, inhabited by a few surviving residents—decadent, drugged, and dreaming—and the Lovecraftian monster they worship, though it stalks and feeds upon them.

From Red Nails, Moldvay takes the concept of a completely enclosed environment, inhabited by rival factions, which can erupt into violence at any time, with fearful catacombs below.

The adventure includes a six-level dungeon—three of which are fully detailed, and three of which are partially detailed, with instructions to help the DM flesh out the encounters. Below the dungeon is a vast cavern containing the city itself, an underground lake, a subterranean volcano, and entrances to the lower catacombs. A group of players could spend an entire campaign here, with  their characters never (re)emerging into the world above.

The Lost City is an ideal resource for any DM who wants to create a setting of their own—or who just wants an intriguing world in which to run their B/X fantasy adventure games.

Coming Soon:
Here’s what irritates me most about B/X…