A Dungeons and Dragons Christmas

Christmas That vaguely defined PC Winter Holiday and D&D always seem to me to be linked.  Probably because it was around Christmas that I was introduced to the game. The first intro came in an old Sears (or Penny's) Wishbook.  It was in the Game Section, though I saw no board or playing pieces, just books.  There were little lead figures, one of which was a "Bugbear Captain".  Had no clue what a Bugbear Captain was.

It was nearing the high crest of the period I call the Fantasy Renaissance.  I received the old Dark
Tower board game that year.  The Christmas before I got the coveted Atari home system with the Space Invaders cartridge.  Big stuff that.  By the following year, I was begging for the Atari Adventure game.  That same year, at the beginning of the school year, I had been introduced officially to the D&D brand.  A couple boys in study hall drawing maps.  Again it was confusing, but I my curiosity was piqued.  My parents even bought me a Monster Manual for Christmas, thinking it was some Myth and Monsters book.

The rest of that year was spent listening to various kids debating this or that rollplaying game, bringing their various rulebooks, and taking it all in.  My sophomore year in high school saw me go to a local gaming group that met on the weeknights in the basement at a local First Federal.  I was there to pitch an idea for making a WWII version of risk.  Sort of a board game inspired by the Second World War. Obviously I missed that boat.

I looked around and noticed a couple tables with kids playing this game that by now I was becoming familiar with.  This was what I call the high point of the Fantasy Renaissance.  Movie theaters had, in addition to Raiders of the Lost Ark (not Indiana Jones and the...), and E.T., movies such as Conan the Barbarian, Dragonslayer, and Excalibur dominating the big screen.  Fantasy was everywhere.  That following January, 1983, I played my first D&D game.

So I link D&D and Christmastime, as many do.  In addition to the basic nostalgia of the season, it brings back memories of years gone by.  So I plan on just throwing out little bits of this and that this season.

Players Handbook Pics the Final Post

Yes, I'm sure everyone has been waiting for it. After a break due to time and commitments, I finish up my look at the art of the 1st Ed. Players Handbook.  And what a look it's been.  That stuff is great!  Most of it anyway. It's not as flashy as modern CGI enhanced graphics to be sure.  But just as CGI in movies usually fails to convey the same feeling of real that even a fake claymation animation can accomplish, so old time paint and ink drawings can sometimes say more and feel more that modern multi-colored computer laden graphics.

So for instance:

What can be said about this that hasn't already been said?  One of the most iconic images of the Dungeons and Dragons, or any, product.  James Maliszewski does the full review here.  I would say I'm not quite so enamored with the pic.  I always felt the devils seemed somewhat blah, just standing by watching.  Team up on him!  But the point is made.  And especially the historically accurate armor and realistic equipment, as opposed to the post-goth Gen X punk rebel look that adorns so much modern interpretations.  It is a great piece of work.  And again, it conveys the mood, the feel of the game.  And that's what the art is for, to capture the feel and inspire.  And hesitant devils and all, it does all that in spades. 

But there are some others worth noting.

This is in the section dealing with Successful Adventures.  A part I didn't read for decades.  I'm not sure how many have.  But it deals with the nuts and bolts of how to adventure.  One of the distinctives of the early rule books was how they assumed the players really knew how to play.  I mean, there's really no instructions that say 'roll dice, move three spaces, take card.'  It just assumes.  But there is this little section that at least gives and idea what to say you're character is doing.  And in this part that deals with poison, a subject that has undergone changes over the years, this little illustration is just a filler piece.  A good one.  But that's all.  Though the poison jar looks almost like an ink bottle, and I think the first time I saw it, that's immediately what I thought.

The above two illustrations are early in the book, in the section dealing with character classes and race limitation.  A reminder that the early game was inspired by other genres of entertainment.  Not to mention some good old game mechanics that hearken back to the wargaming roots of the hobby.  After all, any wargamer will tell you that part of the fun is robbing Peter to pay Paul.  If you want this unit, you have to pay.  And it has benefits and shortcomings.  Same with early D&D.  You want the awesomeness of an elf?  Well, you'll have to pay in limitations.  Though in my world, the Grey Elves occupy the more Tolkienized version, and their limitations, though present, are far less restrictive. 

Anyway, the above illustrations really don't say anything about that.  One shows what appears to be two dwarves fighting a very large snake.  The other shows men fleeing from the lethal gaze of a catopblepas (another reminder of the strong debt to classical literature and mythology in the early game).  But neither has much to do with the surrounding subject.  One of the few cases in which that is true.  Plus, they're not the best quality, almost appearing as dashed-off afterthoughts.  Not horrible, just not the same level as many of the others, nor really helping convey feelings about the  content since they really have nothing to do with the surrounding text. 

If the previous two seemed out of place for their placement in the text, this illustration is spot on.  In the closest thing to actual play instructions in the manual, this falls into the section dealing with surprise movement, and tricks and traps.  And it shows all three!  The detail is fine.  The troll is based firmly on the Sutherland artwork in the MM.  That artwork, as much as any from the early books, set the standard that all subsequent renditions of the troll have to accommodate. And here, it is that version we see.  No explanation needed.  

There are two ways to see this.  The adventurer is luring the troll into a trap.  Or the troll is luring the adventurer.  Given the poses, it's most likely the second.  The troll seems ready and waiting.  The adventurer is on the move.  There's movement.  Either way, it's a trap.  And of course, assuming the adventurer is the target, he's going to be mighty surprised to walk around the corner and see the troll waiting.  Though you have to admit, that's one stupid adventurer, if in monster infested corridors he finds a string and can only think to follow it.  

The last pieces come from the appendix.  A section of the PHB that has been the source of countless moans and groans and 'if I had it to do over' statements. There is little artwork there, and most of it is filler at best.  These two pics, for instance, convey the subject at hand, but do little else: 

The last two are less pictures as much as graphic illustrations.  Apart from the charts scattered throughout the early rule books, little actual graphic help exists for the person trying to make sense of things.  Today, rule books, text books, how to books are laden with full color graphics and illustrations that show step by step what is expected.  But then, it was a little more text heavy.  Illustrations existed, especially in some home repair or auto repair manual.  But they were otherwise quite rare.  

So though these enter in at the end, and are the only real 'here's what we mean' game aids, they do the job quite well:

The first is the alignment chart.  With AD&D expanding the wargame based three choice alignments, and adding the moral elements, the chart gives a good shot of what Gygax intended in his own mind when it came to how a particular character or monster should act. 

It's noteworthy that the changing times are illustrated in this as well.  Lawful Good, in many later renditions of the game, came to be almost intolerant, harsh, judgmental. Even fanatic.  As society moved away from its Judeo-Christian roots, the more chaotic good seemed the preference.  Here, however, the Lawful and Good is "Saintly".  Though it's worth noting that Chaotic Good is no less praiseworthy. Sometimes the strangest things can be a commentary on the changes that occur in a given culture. 

The bottom illustration consists of two parts.  The Inner Planes and the Outer Planes.  You have to love the little elemental illustrations in the Inner Planes panel.  Especially the cloud blowing air.  That is classic, and almost a nod to childlike illustrations for younger grades that weren't really the target audience for D&D in 1978.  The straightforward model of the underneath simply shows where everything is, at least in relation to the alignment chart above.  Though they hadn't been unpacked as they would in later releases, there was something there to tantalize, to want more.  I always particularly liked the endless spiral of the Abyss.  

Anyway, there you have it. The art of the PHB.  As I said, I never paid it much attention, feeling that the MM and the DMG had the  better hands when it came to artwork.  But since I've spent more time in more of the book these last years, I've come to appreciate the artwork more than ever.  In the vast universe that is Dungeons and Dragons, I'd put it among the best there is, and some of the pieces I'd put at the top of any list for any product ever.  And that's high praise. 

And yet more PHB pics

Again, I didn't realize just how much artwork was in the Players Handbook.  Art in the early D&D versions was important.  There was no Internet. There were no smartphones.  The publishing industry itself, like much of the commercial sector, had not exploded into its vast and sprawling dimensions that exist today.  A huge Barnes and Noble was inconceivable then.  Except for Walden's Books in a shopping mall, most book stores were still rather tiny affairs.  Outside of major cities, the choice for obtaining publications was, compared to today in the post-Amazon world, extremely limited.

And so a game based on using your imagination needed some visual aids.  Even if some might lament the artwork as the beginning of canonizing what certain things were supposed to look like, the art was still important.  Especially for those, like me, who came into the hobby from outside the 'fantasy/wargame' circle.  Many things referenced even casually in those books would have gone over my head.  I hadn't discovered medieval history, and didn't care much for fantasy, so I couldn't have understood some of the references (see my post about the Wight and how I imagined it the first time I heard the term).

And in terms of helping, the PHB actually has many great pieces.  Today, thought I'd slip in a large collection found through the spells section.  Since I didn't play spell casters, ever, in any game I was involved with, I didn't usually pay much attention to this large hunk of the book.  But now, being the DM, I've been forced to read up on the different spells.  I already mentioned a couple pics from the section. Here are the others.

This little gem sits at the beginning of the section.  It's sort of a hodgepodge of different images.  Nothing altogether special or imaginative.  A ghost, dragon on a perch, Quasit on his shoulder, and something really, really scary in the background.   Sort of a composite mural like the Monster Manual cover.  But unlike that bulky and patchwork piece, this one works.  Perhaps it's the  black and white, or the arched window bathed in moonlight.  The wizard is well drawn, and the all important tome carries with it that feeling of a large, almost intimidating, medieval codex.  For whatever reason, though, it invokes a feeling of spell caster delving into forbidden arts in a dank, dark corner of the castle, or monastery, or other such structure.  And for the section it is introducing, that's all it needs. 

Two Magic User spells.  Shield and Dancing lights.  The shield pic almost has a sense of comedic, with the sneering imp, again on the wizard's shoulder.  The detail is first rate, and the small trinkets and tiny accessories dangling from the wizard's outfit adds depth.  That's one effective shield spell, by the way.  

Underneath is the Dancing Lights spell.  On one hand, the picture doesn't really convey the usefulness of this  spell.  We can see they are only lights, not torches or anything we might be fooled into thinking.  On the other hand, it shows what the spell does do.  Perhaps it looks fake now, but once it goes further down that dark staircase, whatever is at the bottom will imagine a torchlight procession and spring the ambush.  Because it shows exactly what the spell does, it works.  

Black and white, pen and ink, sometimes have their benefits.   Sometimes, however, they are limited.  And some of the spells would be difficult to visually convey in the best of circumstances.  Mirror Image and Massmorph are two such spells.  Just try to visualize in your own mind how they would work.  And then with the limits of the medium at hand, attempt to show it in a book.  I don't think these two attempts are horrible, they just fall short as probably most attempts with such restrictions, and at such a point in history, would have done. 

That's Leoumund's Secret Chest.  Not overly inspired, but it does show an otherwise uninteresting little container appearing extremely valuable to the individual portrayed.  I always wondered if that was supposed to be the famous Leomund himself.  

Neither cleric nor druid spells account for many illustrations.  In the cleric's case, it may be the more defensive, and miraculous, nature of the spells.  Cecil B. DeMille aside, it isn't easy to wrap one's brains around miraculous occurrences.  When we do, we usually fall short of what they really are, and because of that, tend to dismiss them outright.  The sole cleric spell illustration was the already referenced Locate Objects.  The Druid doesn't do much better.  Here are Fire Trap and Warp Wood.  

The Fire Trap illustration is so-so.  Yeah, he's in it now.  He opened what shouldn't have been opened and something bad has happened.  The problem is, there's a disconnect.  Is he just shocked?  Scared?  About to get scorched?  This picture was almost there, but nto quite.  The Warp Wood, on the other hand, nails it  That's what Warp Wood does - it warps wood.  Though almost tucked in a bottom corner and easily missed as nothing but decorative bordering, the illustration does an excellent job of fleshing out the spell description.

Another 'blink and you miss it' illustration.  Those are insects.  And while I wouldn't want that bunch coming at me, I'm not sure it captures just how horrible the spell is supposed to be.  The spell is in the process of forming.  Yet I can't help but feel the picture sells short the spell's effects. 

One of only a couple Illusionist pics.  Illusionists themselves have always been a tough sell, and quite frankly, I've had a hard time managing illusionist based spells.  My most effective was when my party went through a haunted manor home for an October Halloween themed (and timed) adventure.  Otherwise, they've been tough to get my head around.  This illustration for Demi-Shadow Monsters, different in style and presentation than most of the spell illustrations, somehow works.  No particular monster from the books (a devil perhaps?), it still suggests 'shadow' as much as monster.  But getting that into a verbal game description, now there's the challenge.

We're getting into higher level Magic User spells with these.  In my Greyhawk world, magic is rare, mysterious, and suspicious.  Higher level spells for any class are difficult to come by.  Some are practically non-existent.  So I don't have to worry about these for a while.  Still, they are a good contrast.  The top one, Shape Change, doesn't really show the spell.  It shows a big, nasty, fanged frog jumping at a sprite maybe?  We're to assume it's a shape changed Magic User.  The frog that is.  Or perhaps the sprite.  Or maybe it's both.  Not a bad illustration, but it doesn't tell enough.

The other is Otto's Irresistible Dance.  Spells and formulas that made people dance unwittingly go way back, and old Otto might just be based on one of those legendary examples.  Here, however, you have an almost childish portrayal.  That's an Umber Hulk.  What is really a big, bad, terrifying original creature.  Here, it looks downright goofy.  Not because of the dance, but because of how it was drawn.  I think it would have been more effective had the Hulk been better detailed, then the dance's effect would have been better.  As for the characters, I've never figured out if the fellow in the front is pondering what he sees, or holding back the giggles.  Either way, it's not the most inspiring of the pics, though it does do the important job of showing what the spell actually accomplishes.

That's Gate.  A demon, probably a Balrog Type VI demon.  That's what Gate does.  It summons demons.  The pic doesn't really show the Gate in action.  There are no inscriptions on the floor or in the crossroads with dragon's coils flashing across the sky.  There's just this.  A demon.  That's what Gate does.  Who uses this at all but to summon demons?  If my Greyhawk world is low in magic, it's high in superstition and in its connections with the supernatural.  Everyone is always trying to summon demons or devils, because that's how you get some of the biggie spells.  Especially the Wish granting Arch Devils.  Wishes don't grow on trees in my world, not now in its present era.  So you have to climb a mountain, cross a sea, or summon something either gracious enough to bestow a wish, or diabolical enough.  And remember, if you try, this is what you'll see.

A fitting end to the Spell Pics section. It illustrates the Write spell, an odd spell that seems to be a way of dodging the rules based restrictions for accumulating spells.  It's a fine illustration, tucked neatly away at the bottom of the page.  The barely discernible runes or letters, some form of an illustration, perhaps a hand.  It does nicely, and invokes that notion of an arcane tome possessing some form of ancient power.  And that, kiddies, is just what all this magic stuff is about in the first place.  

The Bard is not hard

OK, dispense with the giggles. My point is, the Bard class, much reviled for its complexity and convoluted presentation in the original AD&D, isn't really that difficult.  In fact, it's a precursor to the product sustaining concept of the Prestige Classes that dominated 3rd and later editions of the game.  No, you're not going to start out as a Bard.  By definition, you won't start out as a prestige class either.  You begin as a fighter, then a thief.  And then you get tutelage under a Druid, but really at that point become a Bard.  You have certain prerequisites, and then you gain certain benefits.

In my hodgepodge Greyhawk world, Bards are limited to the Duchy of Tenh, and are a unique class to that region.  I have Tenh as my resident Celtic world.  Though I've also dropped the Moonshaes into the world as well, I reserve them more for a later Medieval England/Ireland feel.  The Druidic world encompasses a rough arch starting with the Moonshaes (just off the map, northeast of the Sea Barons), and going through the Pale and Tenh (which I've labeled the Suthlans), and then across the middle regions down into Velnua, up to Perrenland, and those regions.  Druids can be other places, but they are most numerous there.

Tenh, however, occupies that particularly Celtic flavor, and so Bards, with their spiritual and mystical place in culture, find a natural hub there.  Most such advanced classes are, by default, the NPCs in my world.  Though Players can obtain them.  But since Bards are a prestige style class, don't expect them to be what anyone can start out with.  And given their high score requirements, the likelihood of rolling one is close to nil.

Still, as with all things in the early days of D&D, I appreciate at least some attempt to have the game mechanics reflect the literary, if not the somewhat watered down historical, basis for something.  In this case, remembering that Bards were never just musicians, but were men of power linked to that nature religion common in the ancient Celtic world.  And if you think about a Bard slipping into a similarly leveled party, they would  be nothing short of superstars.  Even with those from other Greyhawk cultures.  As well they should be.

Art of the Players Handbook Part II

So a few more pics from that worthy tome.  As I said, I never paid much attention to the artwork in the PHB back in the day.  But recently I've come to appreciate it more than ever.

One of the things that defined the early D&D artwork of the AD&D period was off handed humor.  This was reflected in the occasionally cartoonish additions to the visual aids that popped up every now and then.  Several are well known from the DMG, but these two show that the whimsical wink and nod of those first years of the hobby were quite alive and well before the DMG.  The interesting thing about these is that part of the set piece in each picture is quite good, quality sketch with attention to detail.  And then a cartoon is dropped in to change the entire feel of the picture.  Sort of like the game itself - never take it too seriously.

The thief class gets its own illustration in this one.  Not one of the better pictures to be honest.  The poses are bulky and awkward.  The atmosphere is there, but the overall detail not up to what it is in some other pieces.  I've always thought the thief looked a bit like Tony Curtis. 

The poses and the basic quality of this picture, in fairness, aren't much better than the above thief.  The look of the people is somewhat stiff, not quite there.  I can't say why, but the detail just doesn't rise to some of the other pieces, even for those that were done in this 'nitty-gritty' style.  Still, the overall picture somehow manages to capture a feeling, especially given its place in the book.  Kicking off the section on adventuring, it manages to get that 'feel', and since that's the job of these illustrations, I could say this succeeds.

Another in the 'nitty-gritty' realism series.  This one works, and does so wonderfully.  Mostly because there is nothing fantasy about it.  It could be an illustration in some historic reenactment village.  This is for the spell Enchant an Item.  The spell itself shows the differences between the early incarnations of D&D and later versions.  The description of the spell attempts to take the reader into a real world where enchanting an item is actually a long, arduous task.  That fellow is hard at work.  This was the 70s.  The decade of "realism" after all.  The spells reflected that.  And this picture does so nicely.

Almost whimsical in its presentation, nonetheless it is one of the best 'feeling of the game' pieces in the early books.  This is the game.  This is riding off the field on the teams' shoulders after the victory.  Sack of gold over shoulder, comrades raising a triumphant ax in the day's sunlight, victory is won!   What was behind?  Who didn't make it?  Are there others?  After a long, dark and dangerous journey in utter blackness, light - beautiful, wonderful, hug it light - greet the exuberant adventurers.  A pithy picture, but one that packs quite a wallop.  

One of the master works of the D&D canon.  The great Tolkien Debates (how much was Tolkien an influence on D&D?) gets a nudge in one direction with this one.  That could be Bilbo with Thorin and Company fast on his heals.  Of course the scene doesn't happen in Tolkien's universe.  And likely wouldn't.  A Magic Mouth in Middle Earth?  Perhaps.  Think the Watchers of Cirith Ungol.  Nonetheless, it's not straight from any Tolkien publication.  Yet it is awesome in every way. Like so much "Old School" art, it tells a story, and does so based on the characters and descriptions from the text.  Hafling?  Check.  Dwarves?  Check.  Magic Mouth?  Check. 

It also tells a story while leaving much out.  Another hallmark of early D&D art.  Those dwarves and that halfling (oh heck, that Hobbit), came from somewhere.  They are going somewhere.  Torchlight.  Again that the wonderful use of pend and ink to give a dark and dank appearance that won't appear in later versions of the game.  And look at those eyes at the bottom of that dreary stair.  It took a long time for me to realize those weren't just glitches in the print.  What are those?  Smaug?  A dragon?  Something else?  Do the explorers notice?  Is the Magic Mouth warning them or egging them on?  A story is being told.  And that's the essence of the game.  And not just a story, but a game story based on a rich and deep heritage of culture, literature, myth, folklore and legend.  

Art of the Players Handbook

I mentioned the impact that early D&D art had on the potential consumer back in the day.  Like many things in our internet age, there is a tendency toward scorn for those early D&D years when it comes to art.  A few - David Trampier most notably - are given kudos.  Much of the work, however, is dismissed as amateurish at best.

In fairness, some of it, particularly that from the original 'LBBs' was downright childish, almost as if penned by an art class in middle school.  But by the time the hardbound books began to appear, a new level of art emerged that sought to capture the feel and spirit of the game.  And in those days, before Google could drop ten thousand computerized images of a basilisk on your screen, seeing what was being described was crucial for a new consumer base.  As I said, it took the heart of the game and gave it a look to pique the imagination.  And for a game based on using the imagination, that was as important as oxygen.

In those days when I first encountered the hobby in the early 1980s, any artwork was worth its weight.  It goes without saying that the Monster Manual reigned supreme in that category.  And while a few of the pictures seemed a bit cartoonish, most were respectable enough.  The Dungeon Masters Guide was also a treasure trove of imagery and artwork, with several pictures - especially in the second half of the book - evoking a fantasy world view to help sum up what the game was about.

Oddly, the Players Handbook came off as more the valuable text than a source for artistic inspiration.  Back in the day, it was the necessary rule book, but not a place for tweaking the fantasy images.  The artwork seemed minimal, and sometimes merely a dashed off afterthought.

Today, however, as I look through the books, I'm taken by just how plentiful the images were, and the quality they possessed.  Not only did they do what early artwork attempted to do - take the actual game and put it in pictures -, it did so very well.  Not the sleek, slick CGI laden comic book art of modern D&D publications.  But you have to remember, this was the 70s, the decade of realism.  When even George Lucas insisted his special effects team make that galaxy far, far away look lived in.  The art of D&D would likewise take the point of view of the creators and attempt to make it at once a fantasy world, and yet one that would never be beyond our capacity for belief.  It was grounded.  It was at times evocative of classical images and artwork.  And it was all brand new.

Here are a few to begin with.  I'll post more later.

After the celebrated cover pic (which I'll comment on down the road), this is the first bit of interior art that greats the reader.  Right there it says it.  A professional level drawing that in all respects could fit a fantasy book cover.  Except the die.  It's that die that says 'this is different.'  This is about more than just fantasy.  It is, in the end, a fusion of two types of traditional pastimes: imagination and games.  Without hammering the point, it makes the point.  And that is good art. 

Not one of the better illustrations.  It's actually in the 'amateurish' category.  It also adds fuel to the great debate on Tolkien's influence.  After all, that elf is no Galadriel.  It's also worth noting that the human is either over 8 feet all, or that's one small dwarf.  

On the other hand, that elf is holding his own height-wise.  Striking a noticeable similarity to that famous Vulcan Mr. Spock, either the other two men are short, or that's a six foot elven magic user.  Note the cross on the warrior's chest.  Probably a cleric.  Which brings a few other pics worth noting in that category. 

These are three pictures from the PHB that shows clerics in various action poses.  More than once James Maliszewski argued that early D&D had an implicit - if not perhaps an explicit - Christianity in its presentation.  Not hard to believe.  Despite the cultural upheaval of the 60s, America was still heavily based on a Judeo-Christian worldview.  Even if that was eroding, it was still there.  Pick a pop-cultural reference, and if a religious person was needed, he or she would either be Jewish, or more likely, a Christian minister or priest.  For better and for worse.  So it's no surprise that the cleric, already based on  a combination vampire hunter/Christian crusader model, would be portrayed as a warrior of the holy orders.  And that happens in the PHB more than in any other single publication.  

Finally we have another action pic of dwarves.  This was one of many art pieces meant to show the D&D world in action.  These are gritty, grimy dwarves at work.  Note the darkness of the work.  The shadows.  The heavy shading.  Illumination by way of torch.  This is the world of D&D.  Years from now, when the dwarves have left (or have been driven out), this is where those adventurers we play will be exploring.  And from the looks of things, they'll have to crouch down or send in the halflings.  

Favorite Monsters

Early on in my time visiting OSR blogs, I noticed several different posts reflecting on favorite monsters.  As I get going on my own humble contributions, I thought I'd throw a few - perhaps 10 - of my favorites.  The list is, of course, subject to change.

1e MM Arch Devils
I think the section on Devils in the 1st Ed. MM is one of the single best sections in any D&D publication.  Ever.  And the Arch-Devils reign supreme.  There are four, and each a unique, singular being.  Two human-like,  one a grotesque insectoid monstrous abomination, and one a great, serpentine giant.  They can grant others' wishes - a temptation to summon  them in my world, where wishes and most high level spells are scarce at best.  And each has something to offer that the others don't.  The MM2 Arch Devils were always, IMHO, a bit 'meh.'  Four guys who looked liked guys.  With horns.  And a tail.  But those in the MM1?  Atmospheric, sinister, diabolical, powerful - everything you want in creatures that should be nothing less than the most powerful forces of evil in any world.

Wight
The first monster I ever faced in a D&D game.  Jim was the DM.  He was taking us through the DMG sample dungeon.  We had just made our way through the secret door at which point the gnome in the DMG meets its demise.  We journeyed into the large corridor, and chose to go to the right. Suddenly, Jim informed us that we saw 'a wight.'  Since I hadn't delved much into medieval lore, folklore or fantasy literature at that point in my life, I had no clue.  In my mind, I conjured an image of a rabid shmoo.  Whatever it was, the other players who knew more of the genre were frightened, and ran until we came to a room that was barred by iron gates.  We got onto the other side, with the Wight trying to reach us.  Then we had to break it up because of bad weather.  But for that reason, in addition to the awesomely evocative picture in MM, the Wight remains a nostalgic favorite.

Fire Giant
I love Trampier's picture.  All of the giant pictures are top notch, but the fire giant strikes an especially intimidating pose.  The use of Hell Hounds helps.  Since their lairs will, by definition, be a location to be reckoned with, it's unlikely that any but the most powerful parties could - or should - be able to survive an encounter.

Ghost
Another monster bolstered by wonderful artwork.  That ghost pic is straight out of classic literature.  Complete with cemetery and lantern.  The pen and ink work is top notch.  And it presents a monster that is more than just fodder for combat.  It's something that should frighten a party beyond worldly harm.  And when you see those stats, it does.  The ghost is there because of its awful badness.  It ages (who read that and didn't think of Scooby-Doo?).  And if you are slain by a ghost, you are forever dead.  No wishes.  No resurrection.  Nothing.  That's power.

Thri-Kreen
The pose works.  The Thri-Kreen in MM2  has attitude.  Arms folded, exotic weapons almost tapping against its chitinous armor.  Though I've never played one, I plan on it someday.  In my world, monsters are regional.  You don't encounter all monsters everywhere.  And so far, the parties we've played haven't been where they would logically be.  I hope to remedy that soon.  For if there was a monster with attitude, it's the Thri-Kreen.

Pixie
Pixie? Am I serious?  Yeah.  Read the description.  Many of the 'faerie folk' are pretty potent.  And pixies, because they aren't particularly good, plus because they have three separate magic arrows they can use, are about as dangerous as you get.  Confined to faerie forts and similar mystical locations, my parties know better than to get anywhere near where these supernatural beings dwell.  If you think of the description, not many parties will come out ahead of an encounter.

Efreeti
I remember the Efreeti from the old Gold Box computer game Curse of the Azure Bonds.  The artwork was lifted straight from the MM.  And it's breathtaking; one of the best pictures in the volume.   Of course they grant wishes, making them another highly sought after commodity.

Clay Golem
Straight out of folklore.  Like most of the original battery of beasties, the Clay Golem can draw a straight line to a literary inspiration.  The picture looks 'clay-ish'.  The iron golem looked iron, and the stone golem, stone.  But making the clay golem look clay was a masterful stroke.  The fact that it is a Cleric, rather than a Magic User, who crafts the creatures only adds to the heavy historical reference.  I particularly like the fact that while the material cost is 20K gps, the cost for the vestments needed for the ceremony are a whopping additional 30K gps!  That's some major cassocks.

Dragon (Small)
It has been said that for a game called Dungeons and Dragons, few people ever get around to playing dragons.  Perhaps because in the 2nd editions onward, the dragons become so massive only the highest level party could play them.  Yes, they have many ages, and the smaller ages aren't that intimidating.  And yet, it's those smaller, younger dragons that can really scare the bejesus out of a low level party.  We've recently encountered one with our 2nd level party.  The presence of a Druid tipped the scales, and it didn't take long to dispatch the dragon without casualties.  But still, just the thought of a dragon when most monsters up to that point were giant centipedes, kobolds and big rats was worth its weight.

Lurker Above
Don't know why, but always loved the concept. A giant, manta-like creature, bending in with stonework, suddenly dropping on your party.  And tough, too.

Then and now

There seems to be quite a flurry over the recent incarnation of Dungeons and Dragons, complements of the good folks at Wizards of the Coast.  Much of it focused on the look of the new rule books.  My thoughts some other time.  But here's what I notice.  D&D as a non-electronic pastime is having a difficult go of it fitting into the 21st century.  Why not?  Most things that once were considered the tops are struggling now.  It's almost as if culture, art, and entertainment changed overnight all of a sudden, and those looking back are working to figure out how to fit in.  Even books, time honored books, dating to the earliest form of communication, are scarce able to avoid being swallowed up by the post-digital leviathan. 

So why not D&D?  Why wouldn't it struggle? And I thought of some of what we had in the day when the game first came out, versus what youngsters have today and what the game provides.  Of course for many players of the game in its earliest incarnations, the primary source for imagination and escapism was: 

So when a game pops up that looks like this:

It is going to pique the curiosity of at least a few individuals.  As it expands and grows and develops, you have a game that looks like this:

and this:

And when you consider that, until about 1977, the absolute best you could hope for in the top genre movies out there would be akin to this:

that's still pretty impressive.  Even when computer games and video games began to emerge in the 70s and early 80s, D&D - especially as it developed - gave the available technology a run for the money.  Sure Star Wars had come out, and movie special effects were improving.  But you couldn't spend every day going to a movie, even after VCRs became widely available.  So if you wanted to flex those creative muscles, and be inspired by the new technology, you had this:

and this:

While the good folks at TSR (and other publishers) could produce something as awe-inspiring and promising as this:

and even this:

But now, consider a few quick clips from the here and now:

and:

And compared to that, when people think of D&D as a  non-electronic entertainment source, their minds increasingly see this:

See how that works?  In the late 70s and 80s, as I said in my post about the Monster Manual, things simply weren't as widely available, nor anywhere near as sophisticated and technically brilliant, as they are today.  Holding Ravenloft or Dragonlance or even the Players Handbook in your hands gave you an edge on most of what was available to all but a select group of people in the right markets.  Now, it's like churning butter versus buying it by the tub at the local Kroger's.  Or it's like singing around a campfire versus flying in the latest HD 3D quantum space simulator.  Will it continue to survive?  That's hard to say.  But I have a feeling, like so many other pastimes that lasted for ages longer than D&D, all it will be able to do will be survive.

The Haunted Keep Cutaway

The first actual D&D book I purchased was the Moldvay Basic along with the Cook Expert Set (including the delightful Isle of Dread module).  The boxed Expert set even came with a set of dice that had to be colored in with a black crayon to see the numbers.  Old time stuff.  It was in a Walden Books in the spring of 1983.  I received the Monster Manual the previous Christmas, and had already tried my first crack at playing this game earlier that winter.  Since the Advanced and Expert books said advanced and expert, I figured the best thing to do was start at the beginning.  At the time I had no idea that they were supposed to be separate and competing versions of the same game.  All I knew was start with the Basics. 

There's much to say about the contents of those two books, and in retrospect I admire them more now than I did then.  Back in the day, foolish kid that I was, all I wanted was to get to the Advanced rules since that seemed so much more 'adult.'  

Still, even then, there were a few sections, a couple snippets of text, and some artwork that helped capture the spirit of the game in those hazy days of early computer graphics and video games imagery.  One of the best was the Haunted Keep.  The floorplan was fine enough, but it was that cutaway that caught the eye.  More picture than map. It was a real place.  An actual ruin.  Those towers could be located in southern Wales for all we knew.  And look what was beneath them!  Not very playable, but it sure captured a feel, and in those early days of the hobby, before the great Tech boom of the 90s, before the saturation of anything and everything at your fingertips, having a product of the imagination that actually captured the imagination was worth its weight in platinum pieces.  And nothing from the Basic rules did the job quite as effectively as the cutaway. 

The competition, c. 1982/1983