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Hidden Gems, In Theory, Role-Player Game Reviews, RPG Preview

In Theory: Finding The Right D&D For My Group

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I don’t know what it’s like for everyone else out there, but in my local gaming group, we don’t really play D&D anymore and its a bit of a bummer. I’m going to vent and contemplate out loud today about the core issues of trying to get D&D to the table, perhaps some can relate.

First, its important to note that It’s not because my group doesn’t like fantasy RPGs. Quite the opposite. It’s because my gaming crew occupies a rather awkward little patch of RPG no-man’s-land: they don’t particularly like modern D&D, but they aren’t especially interested in Old School D&D either.

They’re too young to have nostalgia for the old stuff, but too experienced to be satisfied by modern D&D’s strange, dissociative dissonance.

In short, neither of the two schools of D&D available today to us scratches that itch.

On one side, you have Wizards of the Coast’s latest rendition of the game, 2024 5e, with all of its modern assumptions about balance, character building, and what a D&D adventure is supposed to look like. Essentially a game of levers to pull on, something very system-driven and, if I can use a strange word here, very programmatic. There is a reason why modern D&D translates so well to video games.

The success of Baldur’s Gate 3 can be attributed to a lot of things, but if I were to paraphrase it, it’s because of its quintessential D&Dness. There is no denying how well the 5e mechanics translated into a video game, it was practically made for it.

On the other, you have the OSR, which, despite producing some genuinely fantastic material, often seems determined to solve the problem by digging up rulesets from 80’s and 90’s, changing the saving throws, commissioning some wonderfully grotesque artwork and releasing it again. Most of the OSR really is a rehash of the awkward rules of a mostly fractioned base system. The systems produced by the OSR are getting better and better, but they still rely on nostalgia to pave the way and old rules are still considered sacred cows; it’s rarely based on modern game design.

Deathbringer, the latest and greatest out of the OSR, is no doubt a great rendition and take on old-school D&D using modern mechanics. I have full faith in Professor DM, and I definitely think the OSR is starting to branch further and further away from its archaic legacy systems. It’s really only in the last couple of years though, that this started happening. Most games in the OSR have sort of re-affirmed the legacy stuff, and I don’t think my players have any interest in that sort of thing.

My gaming crew wants neither.

Thankfully, they’re also an adventurous bunch. They’ll try just about any RPG you put in front of them. We don’t suffer from that peculiar condition I’ve encountered in so many gaming groups where everyone agrees that D&D isn’t quite giving them what they want, but nevertheless insists that the solution must obviously be to play more D&D, be it old school or modern.

So we wander. And, for the most part, I’m perfectly happy wandering with them. Except…

I really want to play D&D.

The strange thing is that whenever I say that out loud, I find myself wondering what the hell I actually mean. Because unlike the rest of my crew, I do suffer from nostalgia, yet I do get their point.

I’ve played pretty much every edition of D&D as it was released, going all the way back to 1st Edition AD&D. Not 0 Edition, mind you. I’m old, but I’m not carbon-dated old.

And because of that, I’ve developed a general affection for the whole ridiculous thing.

I love the settings. I love the lore. I love the mechanics, even the weird ones that require a flowchart, three tables and a brief consultation with Gary Gygax’s ghost. And I have a particular soft spot for that older style of play: dungeon crawls, hex crawls, wilderness survival, resource management, and that wonderful zero-to-hero journey where a character begins their adventuring career armed with a rusty sword, six hit points, and wildly misplaced confidence.

It’s a love affair that has lasted nearly forty years. I’m not ready to give it up.

And it’s not that I have a problem with other systems. My group is currently playing Forbidden Lands, and we’re having a blast. In many ways, that game is a love letter to old-school D&D. It captures the danger, exploration, survival, and unpredictability I love.

Forbidden Lands is one of the unique early cases of the OSR producing something modern and unique without relying on legacy D&D rules, yet firmly hardwired as an old-school-style game. It’s kind of a horror survival game in a fantasy world with a bit of a post-apocalypse feel. It actually reminds me a lot of Dark Sun.

But…It’s not D&D.

And that’s where things get complicated. Because systems do matter.

There’s something buried inside the perpetual motion machine that is Dungeons & Dragons, something that has somehow survived editions, designers, companies, rules revisions, forgotten settings, THAC0, feats, healing surges, advantage, subclasses, and approximately seven billion arguments about alignment.

It still is, something unmistakably unique, something very D&D.

Other games have captured pieces of it. Some have improved upon individual parts of it. There are RPGs with better combat systems, better exploration rules, better character development, better settings, and unquestionably better-organized rulebooks.

And yet none of them quite manage to reproduce the magic of the whole thing.

I suspect that’s part of the unspoken reason D&D remains, in the eyes of so much of the RPG community, the roleplaying game.

There’s some strange alchemy hidden between those pages. A little bit of true sorcery that designers have been trying to bottle for fifty years.

And perhaps that’s the problem. Maybe what I’m looking for isn’t old D&D. Maybe it isn’t modern D&D either.

Maybe what I actually want is the version of D&D that exists somewhere in between the editions, in the accumulated memories, ideas, mechanics, and traditions of forty years spent rolling dice around a table. I really believe that the OSR will be or perhaps already is the answer to my quest, pun intended!

I have my favorites in principle, but not in practice

I recently did a Top 10 list of the best versions of Dungeons & Dragons, and sitting comfortably at number one was 2nd Edition Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. I still consider it the best version of D&D ever produced, and not by a small margin.

That said, if you put me on the spot and said, “You can run any version of D&D you want. Pick one,” I don’t think I’d actually choose 2nd Edition AD&D.

I love 2nd edition AD&D mainly because I think it captures that D&D Sword and Sorcery feel. It does have quite a few chinks in the armor, especially when compared to modern RPG’s. It’s flawed perfection if there is such a thing.

Contradictory? Maybe. But there is a difference between the version of D&D I admire most and the version I actually want to put in front of my current group.

I love the core concepts of 2nd Edition. I love its style, its atmosphere, its assumptions about what an RPG should be, and the general approach it takes to running a fantasy adventure. But it also does a lot of awkward things mechanically, things I know would draw the ire of my players and, admittedly, irritate me as well.

There are plenty of little problems you can fix. THAC0, for example, can be turned into ascending AC with some very simple math. But the deeper you dig, the more strange little subsystems you find, and not all of them mesh particularly well with the atmosphere I’m trying to create at the table.

That’s the catch with 2nd Edition AD&D.

For me, it may be the best version of D&D, but it’s the best version when everyone sitting at the table already wants to play 2nd Edition AD&D.

Get a group of enthusiastic players who understand its quirks, accept its rough edges, and are excited about what the game is trying to do, and I think you’ve hit the perfect storm. In the hands of that kind of group, AD&D 2nd Edition is almost impossible to beat.

But I don’t have that group.

And trying to push 2nd Edition onto the group I do have wouldn’t magically recreate the D&D experience I’m nostalgic for. More likely, I’d spend half my time explaining, defending, ignoring, or house-ruling the very things they don’t like as I field complaints.

At that point, what exactly am I preserving, the game, or just the name on the cover?

D&D sucks?

Strategically, I know that playing the wrong D&D with my group is probably a bad idea. It’s just not going to go anywhere good and will ultimately reinforce the idea that “D&D sucks”, a common phrase uttered in my gaming circles. Worse yet, a failed attempt might spoil the potential of the many D&D-like games out there that reinvent its architecture in more modern and interesting ways, some of which I might actually have a chance of getting to the table.

In fact, I have dedicated a considerable amount of time over the last few years trying to find, even create, that perfect D&D variant that might actually work for my gaming crew. Past attempts have had mixed, mostly bad results, but seeing everyone genuinely enjoying Forbidden Lands, a very distant cousin to D&D, but a cousin nonetheless, has given me some new hope.

I think the trick to succeeding is first understanding what my players actually mean when they say “D&D sucks.” Perhaps not just my players but all players out there, as this reflex accusation levied at D&D is quite common no matter where you look.

After all, D&D isn’t one game. It’s not even one system. Hell, I’m not convinced it’s even one style or theme. That is both the problem and, potentially, the thing that gives me some hope.

In a strange way, I think my players actually do like D&D. They just like D&D as a concept more than they like any of the specific versions of it they have actually played.

I know, for example, that they don’t like Bonus Actions, Healing Surges, THAC0 or percentile dice rolling. They don’t want tactical combat or slow gameplay progression. They are very story-focused and generally prefer quick, sensible resolutions and abstractions over gamified lever pulling. None of this is theoretical either. These are conclusions I have drawn from games we have actually played together.

There is something else worth considering here, however, and that is execution.

One thing I have noticed about my gaming group is that even a weak system can work if the story is good and the atmosphere at the table is right. A game can mechanically be completely not our bag of chips, and we can still have a great time with it, there can still be a considerable buy-in from everyone.

Our experience with Pathfinder 2nd Edition is probably the best example.

My group played Pathfinder 2nd Edition for a pretty extended period; we bought all the books, we did a full mental buy-in, and it was fun. In hindsight, though, I don’t think the system had anything to do at all with what we enjoyed about the campaign. In fact, I would argue it was despite the system, not because of it, that the campaign was successful. We liked our characters, the story, the world. The system itself was a constant nuisance.

For all its praise as a competitor to D&D, I think Pathfinder 2nd Edition is a wildly overcooked system. It takes the “rules of the game” concept so literally that at times it feels like it has attempted to codify the entire concept of roleplaying.

We appreciated it as a rules system in the sense that we could admire the complexity and intricacy of the design, but as a practical system at the table it constantly interfered with the thing we were actually there to do.

Roleplay.

I mean, the only thing in Pathfinder 2nd Edition you don’t roll for is talking, and that’s only true some of the time.

Yet we had a great story, great characters and some amazing GMing, which produced a genuinely fun campaign despite the system being rather exhausting.

I remember leveling up in particular being one of the biggest chores. Pathfinder 2nd Edition may be the first and only RPG I have ever played where gaining a level felt more like a punishment than a reward.

Part of the problem was that the game scales so aggressively alongside the characters. Your bonuses go up, but so do the DCs, monsters and obstacles you are expected to face. The numbers get bigger, your character sheet gets more complicated and you gain more mechanical levers to pull, but in actual play it often felt like I was running just to stay in the same place.

At 1st level I might need a 15 on the die to accomplish the sort of difficult task appropriate for a 1st level character. Many levels later, after adding an impressive pile of numbers to my character sheet, I might still need roughly that same 15 to accomplish the sort of difficult task the game now considers appropriate for me.

Obviously there is considerably more mechanical nuance to Pathfinder 2nd Edition than that, but from the player’s side of the screen that was often what progression felt like.

More numbers. More abilities. More rules. More things to remember.

Not necessarily more capable, and nothing that was added improved the experience in any meaningful way, quite to the contrary, all the rules kind of spoiled the fun.

The point of this little Pathfinder detour is that I already know one important thing about whatever version of D&D I eventually put in front of this group.

It needs to get out of the way, it needs to be consumable and approachable; in a sense, it needs to be simple.

It needs quick resolutions, sensible abstractions and enough empty space for us to roleplay without constantly consulting the machinery of the game.

Because that is where my group lives. You could say we are closer to the theatre kids version of D&D than we are to the kick down the doors and murder everything that moves sort of players.

Picking The Right D&D Variant

Now I know what defenders of X or Y edition are going to say.

Don’t use mechanics to replace roleplaying. Just wing it. Change this rule. Ignore that rule. Adapt the game to your playstyle. The rules are just guidelines. Etc… etc…

The internet is full of this kind of advice, but at the end of the day the reality at the table is that whatever a system does mechanically is generally how people are going to use it mechanically.

If there is an Insight skill, people are going to use the Insight skill.

It’s just how it is.

You see the issue between role-playing, story, and player-DM desires for outcome and what a system produces when watching Critical Role. It’s so crystal clear to me that D&D 5e is the absolutetly wrong mechanic for this group, the game itself is constantly getting under their feet. It also shows, however, that a good gaming group can make any system work. I honestly believe that if this gaming group wasn’t famous running a show on YouTube and they were just playing together for fun at home, they would have abandoned D&D 5e a long time ago.

Of course, as the GM I can change rules, ignore mechanics, make rulings on the fly and generally beat the system into whatever shape I want. I’ve been running RPGs long enough to know how to do that.

But that isn’t what I want.

I want to be able to hand my players a rule system and let them use it. I want them to engage with the mechanics without those mechanics derailing either their vision or mine for the campaign, the story and, most importantly, the space they need to roleplay.

When I wrote my Top 10 Versions of Dungeons & Dragons article, one of the goals beyond simply coming up with the list was to dissect the different variants in the hope of finding one I might actually be able to put in front of my players.

Going back through that list with everything I know about my group, the process of elimination produces a surprisingly clear result.

We are currently playing Forbidden Lands, number 10 on my list, and despite its low ranking, it was a serious contender. The fact that one of my buddies independently picked it up and is currently running a campaign with it, which everyone is enjoying, suggests that I must be onto something.

Forbidden Lands gets a lot right for this group. Unfortunately, as I already pointed out, it isn’t D&D. It’s not even particularly close mechanically. It’s more like a distant cousin that occasionally shows up at the family reunion wearing a suit of armor. I love playing it, but it’s not the one I want to run.

Pathfinder 2nd Edition, number 9, has already been tried and executed for crimes against free time. It’s simply too heavy and too mechanically involved for what my group wants out of an RPG.

Castles & Crusades, number 8, has considerably more potential. In fact, this might be my second attempt if the first one doesn’t work out. It’s core sword and sorcery, relatively clean and, to me, feels a bit like an alternate history version of 3rd Edition D&D. The version we might have gotten if Gygax had remained at the helm, made his peace with some modernization, and didn’t insist on maintaining backwards compatibility with 1st and 2nd Edition AD&D.

Modern 5e, number 7, is certainly more direct than Pathfinder 2nd Edition, but for my purposes it suffers from much the same problem. Too much rules weight. Too many mechanics. Too many levers. The same basic criticism applies to 3rd Edition and Pathfinder 1st Edition at number 6.

Dungeon Crawl Classics, number 5, is an interesting one because we actually tried it.

Unfortunately, we played it online during the pandemic.

It went fine. We had fun with it. Nobody hated it, but nobody exactly fell in love with it either. Its reception was mostly just… meh.

In fairness to Dungeon Crawl Classics, I suspect that had as much to do with our general dislike of playing RPGs online as it did with the system itself. I actually think DCC is a really fun game and, on paper at least, it fits much of what I’m looking for here.

Unfortunately, those memories muddy the waters a bit. If I’m trying to sell my group on D&D again, starting with “remember that game we played online that none of us were particularly excited about” isn’t exactly putting my best foot forward.

So DCC is out.

I think Dungeon Crawl Classics is a great system overall, but it does use these rather wierd and oddly shaped dice, an aspect of the game that really serves no logical purpose. It’s just wierd for wierdness sake, it doesn’t do anything at all to make the game better.

AD&D 1st Edition at number 4 and AD&D 2nd Edition at number 1 both run into the same problem.

Legacy.

My group is simply the wrong generation for nostalgia to smooth over the rough edges. When I look at some strange subsystem in AD&D, I see history, charm and a particular philosophy about how D&D should work.

They just see a strange subsystem.

Their nostalgia lives elsewhere. 3rd Edition D&D and the Swedish classic Drakar och Demoner, known today in English-speaking markets as Dragonbane, are much closer to the games of their youth. Even those games, however, hold little interest for them as something to revisit today. They are not nostalgia gamers, to put it plainly.

Which brings me to B/X and BECMI at number 3.

I think these games come considerably closer. They are simpler than AD&D, cleaner in many places, and represent what I consider to be some of the best versions of classic D&D ever produced. There is a reason so much of the OSR traces its DNA back to Basic and Expert D&D.

But I think they would ultimately suffer the same fate.

Descending Armor Class, race as class, and all the other little artifacts of early D&D design would immediately identify the game as old to my players. I could convert things, house-rule things, and modernize things, but once again I’m back to trying to convince my players to look past the system rather than simply giving them a system they actually want to use.

And that defeats the entire purpose of this exercise.

So after eliminating the games that are too complicated, too modern, too old, too nostalgic, not nostalgic enough, already tried, mechanically unsuitable or simply not actually D&D, I am left with one game from my list.

Number 2. Dolmenwood.

Choosing Dolmenwood from the list I agonized over for the Top 10 Versions of Dungeons and Dragons was not the first thing I did to come to that conclusion. I have actually spent about 3-4 years painstakingly creating my own version of D&D for this very purpose. It was the release of Old School Essentials and games like Dolmenwood that really caused me to abandon those projects. I came to the realization that there are much better designers and writers out there, it was a much easier process to choose one of those systems.

And the more I look at it, the more I think Dolmenwood might be the version of D&D my group doesn’t know they want.

Dolmenwood – The Great Hope

There are actually five unique things about Dolmenwood that I think will register with my group and, perhaps, might do the same for a lot of modern gamers.

A Setting-Driven Game

While Dolmenwood is a D&D variant, a sort of modernized version of what 1st Edition D&D might look like if you designed it today, one of the key elements of that design is that it’s made for a specific setting.

I believe, for my group and probably a lot of groups for that matter, that a system designed specifically for its setting creates a much stronger connection between mechanics, lore, and story. The rules aren’t simply dropped on top of the world; they are part of the world.

This works much better than “generic” systems adapted to settings. In fact, I consider this to be one of D&D’s most prolific flaws as a system, despite it being responsible for the creation of some of my favorite fantasy settings.

I love the approach to story Dolmenwood takes, not just in how the books for this campaign are written, but how the writer understands that the point of a campaign setting is to be a starting point for the creativity of a GM. It hands you a seed that you can plant and grow yourself. Dolmenwood doesn’t give you a whole story, it gives you just enough for you to create your own and as such, its not a complete work, it requires a GM to write the script.

It always happens that the system just doesn’t quite match the story.

In Dolmenwood, everything from race and class selection to spells, abilities, skills, and even the aesthetic of the equipment has a story behind it. More importantly, these aren’t just bits of flavor text. They have connections to the game world that players can discover as they explore it.

Dolmenwood is also sword-and-sorcery medieval fantasy in tone, yet it departs heavily from the traditional Tolkien aesthetic and themes. This gives the game a darker, meaner, and sometimes much stranger edge, while still keeping you firmly in recognizable fantasy territory.

More importantly, it stays quite distant from the superhero fantasy of modern D&D. You are mortal creatures. You are vulnerable. You are very often outmatched by the fantastical things inhabiting this world, and that vulnerability gives those things weight.

One potential complaint I expect to field from my group is the setting’s heavy inspiration from folklore and fairy tales, which includes anthropomorphic creatures like the Grimalkin, shapeshifting cat-like people.

Yeah… I can already hear the grumbling.

I don’t think it’s going to be game-breaking, however. There are plenty of other cool choices, including naturally humans and elves, and given Dolmenwood’s old-school D&D DNA, expanding the options with compatible material isn’t exactly difficult.

Suffice it to say, I think the setting, and in particular the story behind the setting and its deep, inspired writing, is a fantastic foundation for a lot of very cool adventures.

Which brings me to the big picture.

A Grand Story With Freedom of Choice

One big thing I always look for in a role-playing game is a well-defined, structured, and organized story built into the world I’m going to run.

This is probably why games like Vampire: The Masquerade and Alternity’s Star*Drive campaign setting remain among my favorites. I’m a sucker for a great backdrop: a deep, expansive story built into the setting that occupies the imaginations of the players regardless of what goals they ultimately decide to pursue.

Dolmenwood has that in spades.

Grand history. Ancient enemies. Cultural dilemmas. Wars. Geopolitical maneuvering. Old grudges. Weird mysteries. All of that good stuff that gives players something to attach themselves to a cause, an identity, a belief and, most importantly, a sense of direction and purpose.

Many parts of Dolmenwood are really fleshed out, in particular some of the historical bad guys like The Cold Prince. To me, this is a critical part of a good setting, I want to know who the big bad guys are, what are they up to, what motivates them. Dolmenwood understands this and really gives you the tools to bring these bad guys to life.

Dolmenwood is a story filled with secrets and forgotten, dangerous places, but these aren’t simply “adventuring locations” waiting around for the players to clear them out. Everything is a set piece in a larger story.

More importantly, the history of Dolmenwood isn’t just a bunch of stuff that happened centuries ago and now sits in the campaign book as background reading for the GM. Its history is alive. The grudges, conflicts, mysteries and consequences of the past are specifically designed to matter right now.

That is the magic trick.

As soon as the players start exploring the world, they start discovering these things and inevitably become involved in the grand story hidden between the many pages of the campaign setting.

Because the mechanics themselves are also tied to that story, the players have an immediate sense of relevance in the game world. They aren’t tourists visiting Dolmenwood. They belong there.

Inevitably, they are going to become an important part of its history.

For me, that’s the perfect setup for a great D&D campaign: give the players a world already in motion, then let them choose sides and write their own script for how the story unfolds.

Mechanically Familiar & Simple

When I say I want to run D&D, I mean something fairly specific, and Dolmenwood is unmistakably D&D.

Anyone who has played D&D before is going to understand what is going on almost immediately, yet there are aspects of Dolmenwood that I think lean into the best parts of classic D&D while quietly cutting away some of the worst.

Dolmenwood is based on Old School Essentials, but where OSE was a generic system for sword and sorcery fantasy, effectively a re-edit of Basic/Expert rules, Dolmenwood is reworked with the specific setting and style that setting is trying to bring to the table. It’s so much more vivid and in focus and it’s precisely this focus that I think makes it stand out so far and beyond the game on which its based.

Gone are archaic concepts like THAC0, descending Armor Class and some of the stranger old-school subsystems. In their place are quick, standardized and easy-to-remember mechanics, with some mathematical footwork done behind the scenes to simplify elements like skill checks and combat sequencing.

In fact, many of the “new” things in Dolmenwood are really just improved versions of old things, which helps cement the idea that this is still D&D, simply designed with an eye toward modernization.

One of my favorite aspects of the game is the attention paid to areas of adventuring that traditionally become routine bookkeeping.

Dolmenwood absolutely caters to the survival aspect of old-school D&D, but it simplifies much of the resource management in a way that reminds me of Forbidden Lands. Food, water, arrows, torches and other supplies still matter because they are critical to maintaining that survival experience, but you aren’t constantly buried in microscopic bookkeeping just to preserve it.

The combat routine in particular is something I like a lot.

D&D combat has a tendency to get bogged down. It’s often slow, highly mechanical, and intensely tactical, which I have always found strangely contradictory to the fast-moving pulp fantasy heroics the game is supposedly trying to portray.

Dolmenwood goes in the other direction.

Combat is gritty, fast, furious and dangerous. Rounds are still sufficiently structured to ensure combat is tactically more interesting than a simple roll-off, but the sequence is logical and intuitive enough that the storytelling remains at the forefront.

You’re not just pulling mechanical levers off a character sheet. You’re describing actions in a role-playing rhythm, while the tactical layer quietly supports what is happening in the fiction.

Players still have roles to fill. Jobs to perform. Things they excel at. Vulnerabilities that matter.

It feels like a fight rather than a board game interrupting the role-playing session.

A Foundational Campaign

One thing about my players, and I suspect this may register with a lot of groups out there, is that they don’t really want one-shots, short adventures or to walk into a game knowing their stay is limited to X number of sessions before the story is over.

They want broad, long-term campaigns. They just don’t want to commit to one.

Welcome to adult role-playing.

A weekly campaign spanning several years is absolutely in their wheelhouse conceptually; they simply can’t reliably afford the time. So they’re resistant to short-term games while simultaneously being unable to commit to long-term ones.

It’s a wonderfully stupid problem.

I think the best answer is what I would call a foundational campaign: a setting where you can have adventures and build characters without committing to some enormous predetermined campaign arc.

The story isn’t the commitment. The place is.

The Dolmenwood Campaign Book is a massive tome, overflowing with story seeds, adventures, bad guys, awesome locations, factions, culture and so much more. Everything is written with usability in mind, you don’t have to read this book cover to cover to run a good Dolmenwood campaign. Turn to any page and it’s always a self contained, clearly defined thing you can use at the table. Gavin Norman, the creator of Dolmenwood is a master editor. The book is pitch perfect.

It’s somewhere the group can continually return to, building a shared history together, building familiarity with its denizens, and picking things up wherever they left off even if the real-world time span between sessions is months apart.

Dolmenwood is written almost perfectly for that style of play.

There are countless plots, adventure locations, strange people, mysteries and individual stories. While the whole setting is connected through a handful of larger narratives, you don’t have to embark on some epic multi-year quest to get satisfaction out of it.

There is simply a ton to do.

It’s a little bit like Diablo in that sense. You can do everything from a single-session delve to a multi-part adventure, to a grand epic quest, and none of it feels wasted because everything exists within the same lore, history and milieu.

Every adventure adds another little piece to the group’s history with the place.

Dolmenwood is good for a visit of almost any length.

Extreme Compatibility

The final piece is Dolmenwood’s compatibility with the enormous ecosystem of D&D and OSR material, and this is where the real magic happens for a GM like me.

Because underneath everything, Dolmenwood is delightfully, recognizably D&D, adapting material from across the game’s history is generally pretty painless.

Classic monsters, adventures, magic items, dungeons, and ideas can all be pulled into Dolmenwood without having to rebuild the entire game around them. Old-school and OSR material in particular is practically begging to be raided for parts, while material from newer editions can usually be converted with a little common sense.

And that matters.

After fifty years, D&D has accumulated a ludicrous amount of material. Adventures, settings, monsters, classes, spells, magic items, house rules, weird subsystems, and thousands upon thousands of ideas created by professionals, hobbyists, and lunatics with access to a word processor.

Dolmenwood gives me access to that library without forcing me to inherit all of D&D’s baggage along with it.

That’s the sweet spot.

It feels a little like a vanilla version of D&D, except one that has been remastered with modern sensibilities. It avoids much of the mechanical weirdness of old-school D&D while simultaneously sidestepping the overcooked “lever systems” of modern D&D.

The result is one of the more flexible D&D architectures I’ve encountered. And for a GM, flexibility is freedom.

It means that when I find a great monster, adventure, mechanic, dungeon or idea buried somewhere in fifty years of D&D history, my first thought doesn’t have to be:

“Can I make this work?” It’s usually: “Where can I put it?”

That swings the door wide open for creativity.

And perhaps that’s ultimately the strongest argument I can make for Dolmenwood.

It’s a version of D&D that rarely has to say no.

Conclusion

This turned out to be a much bigger article than I expected, and I’m not even sure how many people out there will relate to my very specific local gaming dilemma. But if this blog is anything, it’s an ongoing dialogue about my gaming experiences, and figuring out what RPGs I actually want to run and play has always been a never-ending challenge for me.

In fact, it’s been a while since I’ve actually run anything, in part because I’m picky about what I run. I don’t want to start a campaign simply for the sake of having a game on the calendar. I want to be excited about it, and I want to believe that what I’m putting in front of my players has a real chance of working for us.

Whether or not Dolmenwood actually makes it to the table remains to be seen.

What I do have, however, is the strange satisfaction of finally having made a decision. After digging through editions, variants, old-school games, modern games and all the different ideas about what D&D is supposed to be, I’ve landed somewhere.

If I’m going to run D&D again, Dolmenwood is the game I’m going to run.

A decision contemplated, dissected, and finally made.

Now I just need to get the bastards to show up.

Best of List, Hidden Gems

D&D Theory: How The OSR is Re-Writing D&D History

I count myself lucky to have lived through the golden age of tabletop role-playing—the glorious trifecta of the ‘80s, ‘90s, and 2000s. It was a time of wild imagination and fearless design. From the old-school grit of 1st Edition Dungeons & Dragons to the brooding elegance of White Wolf’s World of Darkness, from the sleek reinvention of the d20 system to the rebellious birth of the OSR—those years were, in a word, glorious.

But I was there for the hard times, too. The day TSR gasped its final breath. The strange, gamey detour of 4th Edition. And the day we lost Gary Gygax, the original Dungeon Master, the man who kicked off this beautiful madness in the first place.

It’s been a hell of a ride—but today isn’t about D&D’s past.

Today, we’re talking about the future. Specifically, the way this community—scrappy, brilliant, and unrelenting—is seizing the reins and dragging Dungeons & Dragons forward, not with bloated corporate rulebooks, but with raw creativity. Today we are talking OSR games!

Because while Wizards of the Coast seems hellbent on tarnishing the game’s legacy with one corporate faceplant after another, the real torchbearers are out here in the trenches, putting out some of the most exciting, innovative, and downright fun material the hobby’s seen in years.

So yes, we’ll throw a little well-earned shade at Wizards of the Coast. That’s dessert. But the real feast? It’s the creators. The OSR authors, artists, and designers who are resurrecting the heart of D&D with zines, hacks, modules, and games that feel like they’re alive. This is a love letter to them—and a look at the bold, weird, and wonderful future they’re building for all of us.

Let’s get into it!

What Is The OSR Really?

Let’s get some discourse out of the way for those less informed. Once upon a time, this was a pretty straightforward question. The OSR—Old School Renaissance (or Revival, depending on who you ask)—was a movement of grognards and die-hards who loved the old-school D&D systems so much, they used the Open Game License (spawned in the 3rd Edition era) to breathe new life into them. They published retro-clones, retooled classics, and sprinkled in house rules like spice on a well-worn stew.

But that was just the beginning.

Today, the OSR has evolved into something bigger, weirder, and far more powerful. It’s still about preserving the spirit of the old ways—sure. But more than that, it’s become a sandbox for unfiltered creativity. It’s where designers and dungeon masters throw off the shackles of corporate oversight, social media discourse, and sanitized storytelling. No HR departments, no focus groups, no trend-chasing. Just pure, undiluted game design.

Think of it like the indie film scene: raw, passionate, and often a little rough around the edges—but in the best possible way. The OSR is where the Tarantinos and Lynches of tabletop design hang their weird little hats, crafting games that are as bold and bloody as they are beautiful.

In a word? It’s a movement.

But more than that—it’s the movement that’s shaping the future of tabletop gaming. And, oddly enough, because of Wizards of the Coast’s seemingly inescapable inability to get out of their own way, it’s also very much the future of Dungeons & Dragons itself.

The True Catalyst – Relevance

You might look at the endless headlines—Wizards of the Coast tripping over its own feet, again and again—and think, “Ah, there it is. That’s why the community is turning away”. Sure, their shameless blunders haven’t exactly earned them any goodwill, but that’s not really the whole story.

The truth is, fans are oddly loyal. Painfully loyal. People love Dungeons & Dragons—even when they don’t love the people making it. Even when they can’t stand the current edition. There’s this almost irrational tolerance in the community. As long as Wizards of the Coasts keeps evolving their game, their first love, people are willing to grit their teeth and smile through the nonsense.

So no, the shift we’re seeing isn’t just a reaction to Wizards screwing up—though they’ve done plenty of that.

Dungeons and Dragons 2024 edition is now fully released. To quote Padme, “so this is how liberty dies, with thunderous applause”. Yes, I’m being a bit dramatic!

The real problem…. the one that haunts Hasbro boardrooms like a slow, creeping death… is relevance.

You see, for all its drama and divisiveness, every edition of D&D up until now brought something new. Something big. Each version was both an evolution and a revolution. First and Second Edition laid the foundation for the OSR and that gritty old-school feel. Third Edition gave us tactical depth and rules mastery not to mention the OGL, spawning entire empires like Pathfinder and Castle & Crusades. Even Fourth Edition, the black sheep, gave rise to bold designs like 13th Age and, more recently, MCDM’s Draw Steel. Fifth Edition opened the floodgates to mainstream success and spin-offs as well, but it also gave birth to Critical Role, which opened up millions of creative minds to the world of storytelling possibilities.

Love them or hate them, every edition mattered.

Until now.

Enter the 2024 Edition. D&D’s big 50-year celebration. A chance to show the world that the game still has teeth and that Wizards of the Coast still leads the most prolific franchise in gaming.

And what do we get? A rebrand. A soft reboot. A product that feels neither evolutionary nor revolutionary—just… there. Polished, sure. But also sanitized, safe, and stifled by corporate oversight and performative politics. It’s a game trying to be all things to all people, and in doing so, has managed to feel like nothing at all.

It landed with a whimper. A shrug. A yawn and we are all left holding this hefty, overpriced book wondering… is this it?

Unlike during the Fourth Edition era, when choices were limited and OSR was still in its scrappy youth, the landscape has changed. The OSR has exploded into a kaleidoscope of systems, zines, hacks, and heart-pounding one-shots. What was once a trickle is now a flood. If anything, we’ve gone from too few options to so many that you’ll need a torchbearer just to navigate the shelves.

But, enough prelude. You’re caught up. That’s what’s happening in D&D, a whole lot of nothing and the OSR is here to save the day.

I have made a list like the following before. see this article back in 2021, but here are five more awesome OSR games paving the way for the future of tabletop RPG’s.

Shadowdark

I knew, without a flicker of doubt, that when I reached this point in the article, Shadowdark had to take the lead. From the wildly imaginative mind of Kelsey Dionne, founder of The Arcane Library, Shadowdark isn’t just an OSR game, it’s the answer to the question: What if classic Dungeons & Dragons were designed today, with modern sensibilities but old-school soul?

This game doesn’t merely pay homage to the golden age of RPGs; it resurrects it, reforged in the fires of streamlined design and accessible play. It’s a masterclass in how to respect the past without being shackled by it. Everything about Shadowdark screams purpose- it’s a true dungeon crawler, built from the torchlight up to emphasize danger, tension, and immersive play.

And yet, it’s more than that.

It’s intuitive to run, brilliantly supported by Kelsey and her team, and evolving fast. The game’s Kickstarter success is the stuff of legends, raising over a million dollars in a single day for its upcoming expansion. That’s not just popularity; that’s momentum. And with that momentum comes growth. The system that began as a love letter to torchlit corridors and lurking horrors is now expanding into a full-fledged, grimdark world rich with lore, cultures, monsters, and mystery.

I’m super psyched for this one, it’s very high on my must play list, and I’m certain I’m not the only one if that Kickstarter is any indication.

Mörk Borg

Designed by Pelle Nilsson & Johan Nohr, two guys from my neck of the woods (Sweden), this one falls into the category of a little bit creepy, a little bit gonzo style RPG. While the game is rules light, it has a considerable amount of crunch to it’s combat with a rather viceral doom metal approach to its world design.

In essence, you’re playing in a world that is ending, living out your last days in a brutal and nihilistic setting that forgives your sins but shows you no quarter. It’s full of amazing art and takes a very direct, pick-up-and-play approach that doesn’t feel “one-shotty” thanks to having meat on the bones where it counts and an awesome, addictive grimdark world. Read all about it HERE.

Castles and Crusades

Imagine what would happen if Gary Gygax made a 3rd edition of Dungeons and Dragons using modern game design techniques, that in a word is Castles & Crusades. A game that takes all of the modern mechanics and streamlining of 3rd edition but with 1st and 2nd edition AD&D sensibilities. That is what the work of Stephen Chenault and his brother Davis Chenault from Troll Lord Games gave us. A true and pure gift.

Castles & Crusades is a reasonably crunchy, yet distinctively Dungeons and Dragons in what I think is probably one of the truest and most honest attempts to re-write Dungeons and Dragons edition history. In so many ways, this is the real 3rd edition of Dungeons and Dragons. Everything you think D&D is, is in here but without all the nonsense Wizards of the Coast put us through in the last few editions of the game. Pure, unfiltered Dungeons and Dragons!

The amazing thing is that it’s a free game, you can get it here and check it out yourself.

Dolmenwood

I have talked a lot in the past about Old School Essentials, having run the game for the better part of 3 years in a single campaign. It is an awesome system that is essentially a Dungeons and Dragons construction kit, but also, when you get right down to it, it is effectively classic B/X 1st edition D&D.

Dolmenwood takes that base and builds upon it an entire setting with a very focused playstyle geared towards exploration of the world but also of an underlining history and story of the setting. Gavin Norman, the creator of both Old School Essentials and Dolmenwood, is probably one of my favorite OSR designers because he has an uncanny sense of order and organization, understanding the base principle of creating content and systems for the practical exercise that is playing a tabletop game.

Bringing that same approach that made Old School Essentials such a pure joy to run and applying it to a setting is exactly what I hoped to find when my Kickstarter PDF’s arrived. This is an excessively easy game to prepare, a vast setting with tremendous attention to detail that is easy to access thanks to this amazing organization and, most of all, absolutely inspiring writing.

I can’t wait to run this game for my friends because I know that this sort of attention to story and detail is exactly what my players crave. They love stories that break expectations, that are based on the characterization of a unique world, and most of all, they love long campaigns that they can lose themselves to.

Hyperborea

Of all the games on this list, Hyperborea is perhaps the most likely to have had an affair with old school 1st edition Dungeons and Dragons. There is clear Dungeons and Dragons DNA burned deeply into this game, and perhaps not surprising given it comes from the creative mind of Jeff Talanian, a known Gygax collaborator.

This game is heavily influenced by Appendix N, the famed list of pulp fiction upon which Dungeons and Dragons was based, but it’s clear from the setting design that Robert E. Howard’s Conan was among the author’s favorite.

You live in a decaying civilization where magic has gone terribly wrong in what I can only describe as a savage mix between Mad Max and High Fantasy. Grim, moody, and overflowing with danger, in Hyperborea, life is cheap, and your characters are less heroes and more survivors as you navigate your way through the primeval denizens that populate this setting. It’s a fantastic game with a big focus on the creation of unique fantasy characters that will undoubtedly break the expectations of even the most veteran tabletop groups.

Conclusion

Ok that’s it for today, hopefully, you found something on this list to explore. There is no question that there are far more games that deserve mention here; trimming this list down to five took considerable restraint. Perhaps I will do another one of these in the near future.

Gaming Articles, Role-Player Game Reviews

D&D Theory: Making the 5e CR system work

One of the chief complaints about 5th edition Dungeons and Dragons is the CR (Challenge Rating) system which is used to balance combat encounters for the game.

The specific complaint is that the CR system doesn’t really work to create balanced encounters and using the system as designed results in weak and underpowered encounters. An additional issue is that the CR system assumes multiple encounters per day which is an unrealistic expectation for a standard D&D campaign.

Today we are going to talk about the CR system, specifically the design space, some of its math, the theory behind its design and how and what can be adapted to get different results.

The High Powered Fantasy Is Core

One important concept to embrace about 5th edition as a game design is that all of the architecture is built around the game being a high-powered fantasy RPG. The characters in the game are high-octane heroes with very powerful abilities that grow in power exponentially and its assumed as a design that the heroes always win, essentially. To use a metaphor, they are the Avengers, superheroes that always prevail and only suffer setbacks but are expected to come out victorious in a dramatic fashion.

This is important to understand when working with the CR system as designed as the core design of the game directly affects how the CR is designed to work out mathematically and as a practical application in the game.

The fact that D&D 5th edition is a high-powered fantasy is not a problem, it is a feature and should only be addressed if you actually feel the game lacks challenge in your group. If you find yourself wishing the game was more challenging, there are many approaches, but keeping the adjustments simple, and using a minimalist approach that has maximum impact is key.

In short, the CR math is setup to ensure that the players always feel like high-powered fantasy heroes. The complaint that the CR math results in weak encounters even when they are set to hard or epic is valid, but this is by design and working as intended. It’s not a bug, it’s a feature.

Gauging Expectations

Given the acceptance of the above, the question is what are the expectations? I think it’s fair to assume that some, perhaps many players want there to be more of a tactical challenge, and more risk involved in the outcome of combat encounters, meaning that while they enjoy the high fantasy as a narrative premise, some at least may feel the game should be more challenging as a whole, in particular in the area of combat encounters.

I think this is fair, while certainly if you want the high-powered fantasy, the CR system and the base out-of-the-box setup for the game has you covered, but for those that wish it produced more challenging encounters, the question is what can be done?

From here, we will assume that players and DM’s want a more challenging tactical experience.

Now one thing you could clearly do is simply toss out the CR system or alter its math but the math behind this system is actually quite good in my opinion and I believe that it can still be applied as is while getting the result we want, a more challenging game, by altering the conditions of the game itself.

I believe the conditions of the game is where the correction should be, not an adaptation of the CR system itself.

The reason for this is monster design. All of the monsters have been quite carefully tailored to their CR rating, there was a lot of attention paid to the math of bound accuracy and the leveling of monster powers vs. character levels and all the mechanical layers of class design.

Mess with the CR math and you mess with a far wider design space of the game’s core. This will and does as many have discovered really mess with the balance of the game in very unexpected ways where some classes remain impossibly strong, while others really struggle, some monsters suddenly become super powerful, while others actually become weaker still. It may seem strange that this happens when you mess with the CR math until you realize that at the heart of the game’s very intricate balance is this system.

In a word adapting the CR system math comes with many unexpected complexities which I won’t get into in this post, instead, I will show you a much easier way.

Adjusting difficulty so the CR math becomes challenging

The best way to adapt D&D in any edition of the game which includes this one is to adjust the core of the games pillars. There are three of them.

Ability Scores, Hit Points and what I call The Alpha Strike empowerment. Reduce these and regardless of class or level, the entire framework of power is reduced and the difficulty of the game increases.

Adjusting ability scores

Ability scores are one of the pillars of D&D, high scores make characters much more powerful and reliable, lower scores make them less so, but if you really push the envelope here and allow characters to have exceptionally poor scores, the games challenge increase dramatically.

The default system uses one of two options. 4d6 drop the lowest and place scores to preference or the point buy system.

In these systems, the average score is going to be 12-13 and you are very likely to have scores of 15-17.

While this character probably didn’t start out quite this strong at the start of the campaign, the benefits of starting with high ability scores and the increases earned through levels end up creating flawless high-octane characters that have no trouble dealing with that pesky CR systems math.

Since you are able to place the scores wherever you like, the end result is that you will have bonus modifiers where it count for your character. For example, a fighter will have good modifiers for strength and constitution ensuring they have it where it counts, accuracy of hitting, bonus to damage and extra hit points.

More importantly, you are unlikely to have scores with negative modifiers, they will at least be few and far between.

By lowering the potential for abilities scores and the control over ability score placement you can dramatically reduce the effectiveness of characters globally across all classes.

If you use 3d6 rolled down the chain with no rerolls, and no control over the scores you reduce the average score to a 10 which results in no modifier and you are almost guaranteed that each character will have 1, 2 or even potentially 3 scores that are in the negative space. Having 1 or 2 scores with a bonus modifier is considered lucky and you are unlikely to have scores as high as 16-18, these will be far and few in-between.

This is the first step of bringing the CR system into alignment as it will not only force hard decisions and create imperfect characters but result in a global reduction of power the players will be able to exert individually and as a team.

Adjusting hit points

Next we address the issue with hit points. 1st level characters start with maximum hit points, plus their constitution modifier. The lowest score possible here is 6 which is quite low, but it’s possible to reach scores of 16 with some classes and a high constitution score.

What you want to do is make the early game a very dangerous proposition, but also ensure that the games hit points always remain a relatively low average.

Start by rolling hit points at 1st level as you would normally do during level-up instead of starting with max hit points.

More importantly, do not create any house rules for re-rolls or exceptions for when players roll low. Let the statistical averages play out.

Players will feel the sting and if you stick to your guns and remain firm on 1 roll no exceptions, characters will always feel squishy and in danger, no matter what level they attain as the average hit points of characters will remain very low.

Adjusting Alpha Strike

The final step is to address the Alpha Strike problem. Lets first describe it.

The Alpha Strike problem is that with all of the combined potential might the players can execute, if they are certain that they don’t have to preserve resources, their power level is always equal to their most powerful abilities in every fight. As such the balance of the game has no swings or averages, they are always at their best.

Now you don’t want to have to make adaptions to the adventure, or create resource drains or force multiple combats in order to tax the players to ensure they can’t do this which is the usual advice given by most.

I personally find this a very meta and unnatural way to approach a solution to this balance issue, in fact, even the CR system itself assumes six to eight fights per day to ensure there is a balance to this core problem but I think there is a much better and more systematic way to do this that does not require you do anything special with the adventures that you run.

The added bonus here is that this is actually an official alternative rule in the game.

It’s called the Gritty Realism rule. This rule essentially changes the definition of a short rest to 8 hours of rest and a long rest to 7 days of rest.

This rule ensures that character resources are finite and they must carefully pick and choose with each encounter what resources they will expend.

Oddly it also supports the premise of how the CR system is balanced across multiple encounters because over the course of 7 in-game days, it’s far more likely that adventures will have the assumed six to eight encounters a day, which in the case of gritty realism is actually 7 adventuring days.

This all but eliminates the concept of the alpha strike, in fact, such things will still happen but only during important and dramatic moments when the players face powerful foes (aka boss fights). The rest of the time they are going to always be conserving their resources, covetting them and only expanding them when it really matters.

Conclusion

With the implementation of this architecture what you will discover is that the CR math suddenly works. Average encounters will feel average, hard encounters will feel hard and deadly encounters will almost certainly kill characters. This balance will remain from 1st level all the way to 20th level, it will never falter, the CR system math will simply work.

Not only this but there are many other side benefits of using this approach as many old-school gamers will attest.

Fear of fights and the danger of fighting becomes real to the players as they will naturally recognize that they are no longer super-powered high fantasy heroes but very much mortal. Other dangers like traps become more vivid, and social encounters in which players seek help from NPC’s will become far more important.

Combat will become more tactical where players will be encouraged to maximize every inch of their character’s benefits, min-maxing their powers in any way they. The premise of the character build can be given free rein, letting players build their super weapons and manipulate the system to their heart’s content without fear of breaking the balance of the game.

You can be more generous with magic items, let them find stuff that empowers them and you will find that they not only appreciate discoveries of fine treasures far more but they become quite precious to the players. Every potion, every scroll, every ring, every magic sword will be a real treasure.

Even with the implementation of this architecture for your game, characters will still become powerful and they will still eventually face dragons and epic monsters, but the journey will hopefully be fraught with real feelings of danger and excitement, so when they do face that dragon, it’s going to be the epic experience it should be.

When D&D is a challenging experience, the heart and soul of everything players do from role-playing to battles with enemies become more meaningful, they will feel like they earn every inch of their success, where the rewards for hard-fought battles and completion of quests are well deserved and leveling up feels like a real treat.

You will also find that the published adventures for 5th edition that feel far too easy become real challenges where players can actually fail. This will inspire you as a DM and make you feel like you are doing your job without having to constantly try to figure out how to make the game more interesting and challenging. Let the architecture of the game do it for you.

Good luck in your adventures!