2025/11/17

Review: HEXplore It: Fun-Like Experiences and Shadows in the Cave

A few days ago, a board game gave me a peculiar sensation. It's something I get from Jackbox games, the later Marvel films, or the midway of a sad carnival: the horrible feeling that this is a fun-like experience. It feels like I should be having fun here, so I must be having fun... but it isn't fun. It's just fun-like. I'm only vaguely aware of the youtuber Mr. Beast, but his face is the face of this emotion; a manic grin with dead eyes. The synthetic echo of joy, with something malignant and inhuman just under the surface.

The board game was HEXplore It: The Forests of AdrimonAt friend's request, we played it for five miserable hours. And now, you're going to hear about it. 

HEXplore It® is a cooperative hero building adventure board game toolkit. 
Enter a realm teeming with fantasy creatures, heroes, and villains. 
Players select their hero by combining several character options: Role, Race, Aspect and Trait. Your Role is your hero's profession while your Race is your heritage and species. Aspects and Traits are optional and are found in our Hero Chest and Expansions.
These combinations drive your hero's strengths, weaknesses, and defines your unique special abilities. Discover fun synergies and enjoy creating entirely different combinations.

-The HEXplore It store

The Simplification Trap

So you want a game that feels like X but without Y.

OSR games are a perfect example. You want a game that feels like [old-school D&D], but without [OD&D's editorial gaps / AD&D's overly complex, verbose, or badly edited systems / this game's design flaw] etc. Sometimes, that means your game is OD&D With One Thing I Hate Fixed, or B/X With Better Layout. Sometimes, it's the GLOG. And that's all fine. Even if you disagree with Y, someone (even if it's just the author) says that it produces X.

And some tradeoffs are worth it. You want a food that feels like [fresh pasta] but is shelf-stable and requires minimal preparation? [Dried pasta] isn't quite as good but the tradeoff may be worth the convenience. 

HEXplore It apparently wants to create an experience that feels like [4E/5E style character creation, levelling up, an exploration hex crawl, tactical combat, and a save-the-world quest] but without [the complexity, time commitment, and a GM]. D&D without all that tedious mucking about doing D&D.

It fails.  

To be clear, there are some board games that perfectly replicate the experience of playing a large, fiddly, complex board game. No substitute is required; the game does what it says it does. It produces the intended sensation. This isn't a post complaining about complex board games. It's a post complaining about a game that sets out to do X but without Y, and fails spectacularly.

Boardgamegeek

Character Creation 

Character creation consists of a basic race + class  + trait combo. As most of the players were new, and to speed up the process, these were assigned randomly.  

Races and Classes, from the basic view, feel like 5E inspired. The 5E Druid is split into a Thorn Whipping Damage-Dealer Class and a Wilderness Explorer + Group Buff class. Pre-built builds, pre-defined powers. Nothing new or particularly exciting. 

Traits provided a rare direct incentive. Every time you do X, tick up a track. Every time the track fills, mark a rank, and maybe do something else. Stats and Skills are pre-set, adjusted slightly by Race. And that's it. 

The result isn't really a character. There's no life. Just the semblance of life. A shell of an RPG character. Not quite an arbitrary token, but not alive either. A shadow.

As far as satisfying players, it fails on the Synergistic Optimization front (as there are very limited options), the Build Your Unique Original Character front (as the characters are flat, meaningless, background-less, detached from reality, and on dry erase boards), and the OSR Quick Heroism front (as generating a character is surprisingly tedious, despite involving almost no randomness). It is the worst of all possible worlds. The pre-generated heroes from Heroquest or Mansions of Madness do a better job of providing players with hooks for non-mechanical choices and conversation. 

Frequent stat upgrades means constantly redoing the math on your sheet. It's not complicated, it's just tedious, and the limited powers are still complex. The whole game is full of text, keywords, conditional statements, and lots of choices that aren't really choices. Once you understand the mechanics, you realize there are basically four options in any combat, and on any given round one of them will be obviously optimal. It's rock paper scissor, where scissors ticks down an Energy pool. 


GM-Less?

HEXploreIt is allegedly Game Master-less. Everyone can play a character; all the usual GM actions are performed by dice rolls, decks of cards, and lookup tables.

Yet, in practice, unless your group is very good at memorizing, the group rolls dice and calls out the results. After the first few exploration attempts, we were able to speed up this process, but it took two hours to approach anything like quick resolution of even basic game mechanics, as these rolls are interrupted by other game activities and subsystems.   

There are quick reference cards for some actions / functions but a) they look identical from a distance, b) they're dense as heck, and c) there's only one per table, meaning it's constantly getting passed around, put under other reference cards, etc. And they never seemed to have all the information you wanted on them.

There's only one copy of the rulebook. At one point, all the players were on their phones looking at the wiki. The D&D-like-experience-but-less-complicated game has a wiki! 

You also need one player to manage the Battle Mat, which tracks enemy Health, Energy, and Special Abilities, group resources, the overall game doomsday clock (which can move up or down), etc, etc. I mean, look at it! This player will probably also do the rolls for the random monster attacks and abilities. They probably understand the rules.

That person is, effectively, a GM. A GM without power, without rulings, without control, merely a blind agent of uncaring rules. Aware of the suffering around the table but unable to do anything about it. All the tedious tracking of a GM's role (while also running a character), but without the incentives or the joy.

Also, since both the effect and target of monster attacks are randomized, there are no real tactics beyond resource management. A player can choose to Defend on their turn, but that only affects their incoming damage, not the group's (or so it seems). You can't really tank or position or block or hide or do anything that makes D&D combat genuinely interesting

In our group, the person who wanted to play the game and the person who was managing the tracking sheet were getting snippy with each other, and with the rest of the table, bringing a "disgruntled teacher at the end of a long day" energy by the end of the night. "No, on a critical success on Explore you get 2 gold and a chance to roll for a Essence Vine. Or is it an Infused Seed? No, not the purple die, the blue one. Where's it gone? Here it is. A six? Ok, you can spend 1 Energy or 1 Health to roll again or..."

That's the vibe of this game. Management of resources that are intended to feel like something (Food, Health, Energy, Gold,... Vines, Seeds, Hearts of the Forest, Healing Consumable Items, etc.) but, at the of the day, are just numbers on a dry erase board. They go up, they go down, they don't matter. Nobody cares. None of these characters are real. They're just dry erase smudges moving around a randomly generated forest, fighting randomly generated enemies, in pursuit of four randomly generated artifacts, which are in three randomly generated pieces in randomly generated locations, and which can be used to defeat a prewritten Big Evil Boss. Clue doesn't feel like a real murder mystery and this doesn't feel like real exploration.

Simpler? 

The basic rulebook is thicker and denser than OD&D, by a considerable margin. That's not counting all the rules on the cards, the bosses, etc. If you stripped it all out, I think it'd be at least a 5E PHB sized book. 

Coopgestalt

The healer ("Floromancer") was run by a person who'd played the game before, and is otherwise reasonably intelligent. They made several brave attempts to understand their Healing Ray power. What, for example, do the 3/6/9/12 above the grid to the right of the power mean?

Let's break it down. Keywords are in blue. Definitions (added by me) are blue and in brackets.  

You may use this Mastery during the Movement phase to harness the sun's power. Raise [heal, but if overhealed, grant temp HP/Energy for the turn] each hero's Health or Energy (your choice) by 3 for this Game Turn. In combat, Healing Ray creates 2 plus one third Molecular Barrier rank motes that last until they are consumed or combat ends. Anytime a target suffers Health damage, you may choose to consume one or more motes to Heal that target's Health equal to half Healing Ray rank (minimum of 1). At rank 7, you may also use Arrow of Light this round.

Actually, let's not break it down, lest this author break down. Any game designer who writes "Healing Ray creates 2 plus one third Molecular Barrier rank motes" and says "yup, that looks good" needs to be force-fed back issues of Pyramid (the GURPS magazine) until they burst. 

Sure, dividing by 3 (and round down) is easy, but in HEXplore It you're constantly adjusting your numbers for one reason or another. Oh, and the player drew a Race that set their starting Healing Ray value to 0, which meant they couldn't use it at all at first, which just felt bizarre. And what is a 'molecule' to a floral forest druid?

The point of your board game is to make a less complicated version of D&D, and you invented this? THIS is what you've handed a player at a BOARD GAME NIGHT?! A player who may have enjoyed INTOXICATING BEVERAGES and GREASY SNACK FOODS?!? A player who may have worked a full day before arriving to a PURPORTED EVENING OF FUN AND MERRIMENT WITH FRIENDS?!!  

If you have played this game and enjoyed even a tiny part of it, you are living in Plato's cave. You can run an RPG! It does what you want! You're sucking gravy from the tablecloth while the whole feast is laid out in front of you! Just do it! Or, if you liked the procedural exploration, resource management , and limited combat options, there are video games! JRPGs solve this decades ago! 

Evocative?

The art and flavour text, where present, feels very sanitized and corporate. There's no real danger or real mythology here. It's polished, accessible, and fit for purpose; the stylistic equivalent of Landlord Greige. Hasbro-compatible worldbuilding. The game doesn't challenge the reader, adopt a position, reveal a worldview, or simulate reality. The world exists to enable the game mechanics. It exists only when the heroes interact with it. The flavour in the rulebook largely comes from keywords.

The lack of evocative writing and the abundance of clear but bland art serves only to stifle and flatten the imagination, like an animated digital battlemap. The power of the human mind swamped by vulgar visibility and clarity. Most of the game was spent staring at the utility side of the character sheet. You didn't dare flip it over to look at the illustration because of the dry erase writing. The hex board is just a vague suggestion of forests, mountains, and roads to nowhere. I don't think the normal monster cards had art; if they did, we were too busy grappling with the mechanics to see them. 

Several aspects of the game are clearly utility-focused. Sometimes, they're genuinely good. They have to be; the game is so complex that anything less than ideal information design would result in total collapse. The designers had to make it clear or the game simply wouldn't function. But this is the clarity of overengineering, not of streamlining. This is six colour-coded dials that you have to monitor instead of one automatic switch.

The world is tile based. It feels as real as the island in Settlers of Catan. Without photographs, there's no way to put away the game and restart it later. It's not a setting. It's just some tiles.

Challenging?

The difficulty of the game can be adjusted. Winning too easily? Make the game harder by increasing some of the numbers! Granular difficulty, of course, means alternate and verbose rules. How do you know if the game is too easy, or if you're just managing resources well? Is it apparent after ten miserable hours? Twenty? 

The clear visibility of the difficulty rating reveals that any perceived system mastery is hollow. Any victories feel even thinner and less meaningful because the "Easy Mode" dial is visible. There's no GM to tweak combat, invent houserules, or provide non-combat / resource management challenges. Even AD&D tournament modules had more going on than this game.

After 5 hours, we'd largely grasped the nature of the game. The mechanics switched from confusing to boring. Once the mystery was revealed, optimal strategies began to form. The two powers granted to each characters were revealed as shallow. This can absolutely happen in an RPG, but the reality of the imagined world keeps things fresh.  

Random encounters are worst kind: resources depletion. You fight a Giant Fox. It feels exactly like fighting a Giant Statue or an Mind-Wiped Horde or whatever else. Just moving resources around. All the stupidity of 5E's prewritten random encounters, none of the opportunities for joy.

Moments of Joy?

Candy Land is what I'd call a minimum viable board game. It's a board with a track. Players take turns drawing a card with a colour on it and advancing their token to the next square of that colour. The only moments of joy come from a series of unlucky draws or a series of lucky draws. Replace drawing cards with rolling 1d6, and getting 2 sixes or 2 ones in a row. That's the only type of story Candy Land can create.

That kind of story that was available in HEXplore It. For five hours. Of a RPG-like game.

If I ever ran a session that felt like this game of HEXplore It, I'd give up GMing forever. 

Sure, there was some satisfaction in finally understanding a build and levelling it up, but since level ups were effectively purely random, and getting a proper synergy to work took the full five hours, I'd hardly count it as joy. If you like combat-as-a-sport or build synergies, there are other, better games available, either on the RPG side, the mechanics side, or the complexity side. 

The Magic Circle

RPGs work by creating a shared imaginary world. D&D didn't take off because it had wargame rules for Hobbits and Orcs. It took off because someone, in an early game, said "I want to talk to the Troll" or "I throw a rock at the trap" or "I tie my rope to..."

That nameless ur-player chose to interact with the world as a world, using real-world logic, and got results that no mechanics could hope to encompass. Sure, wargamers could try to get into the mindset of a Napoelonic general or a piratical sea-captain, but that was just fluff around the mechanics. But the cunning plan was the game. It is the game.

If HEXplore It understood that, they'd probably implement a resource called Clever Plans. You'd roll the Clever Plans die and see if you rolled equal or below your Clever Plans Rank. If you did, you could generate 1 Food or deal 1 Damage or... look, you get the idea. I can feel my bile rising as I'm writing. It's awful. It's endless that, while pretending it's not. 

The underlying reality of an RPG allows players and the GM to make rulings about how things should work. Can you drink a potion and still make an attack in OD&D? Well, the rules don't say. Combat rounds are 1 minute long, so maybe? But wait, you're using a shield and a sword. Are you going to drop one to use a potion? The ruling might be wrong, or right, or get fixed later, but it's easy to make in the moment.

In a board game, reality does not matter. The rules are the sole mediator of interactions. Can you sell items in settlements in HEXplore It? Maybe? We didn't find rules for it (beyond selling food, oddly). Can you trade items between characters, and if so, when? That took ten minutes to look up. Even positive reviewers are baffled by the game's choices, and strive to articulate their dissatisfaction

A Better Game

In five hours, a reasonably competent DM of an OSR game could take new players through character generation and run a satisfying session. I know, because I did it a few days ago. That session had some truly excellent moments that made everyone laugh and will probably enter the canon of great all-time game moments. In fact, for all my session reports, most games were 4 hours, some were 5, and a rare few went to 6. 

With a medium-heavy game (D&D 3.5 - 5E, Pathfinder, etc.), a GM could at least generate characters and run a basic starting adventure.  With the average storygame, you could get through an entire arc. With the average 'zine concept game, an entire game and a callout post. At least two rounds of Fiasco. An entire Crokinole tournament. A Magic the Gathering draft with playoffs. Two games of Root with completely new players. A double feature of Nixon in China and Mosè in Egitto!

But in five hours, we'd barely accomplished anything in HexploreIt. It was an hour before I felt like I'd made a meaningful decision, and even that was only the first of many resource-management choices. And two of the players had played the game before! Agony! Dismay! Wrath!

Final Notes 

Critic John Kula, writing twenty years after [The Campaign for North Africa's] publication, noted that development of a game this size was solely driven by player feedback. "So why produce a game which is unplayable? Well apparently the feedback responses that governed Jim Dunnigan and SPI indicated that gamers wanted such monster games. And true to the old curse, gamers got what they asked for. This is likely the single biggest difficulty with reader feedback — everyone knows what they want, but few know what they need."

-The Campaign for North Africa, Wikipedia  

HEXplore It has art! Cardboard! Miniatures! Playesting, balancing, life-improving design choices. Custom dice! Its the height of pre-tariff board game ambition. And yet, it embodies a fundamental emptiness, a failure to truly understand what it attempts to imitate. 

In short, that even the finest passages you steal are of no service to you; for the poverty of your own language prevents their assimilating; so that they lie on the surface like lumps of marl on a barren moor, encumbering what it is not in their power to fertilize! 

-The Critic, Act 1, Scene 1 

It is a thing to back on Kickstarter, to own, to unbox, to dream about using, and to never use. It can sit on you shelf and promise joy. Let it sit there. Or, like the miser who buried his gold, throw it away and pretend it's on your shelf. Your friends will thank you.

2025/11/13

OSR: Beyond the Western Desert (or OD&D with Appendix N-1)

The conceit of my current OD&D game is "OD&D without context". What weird mutant offshoot of the tree of RPG development will we create if we take the LBBs, and only the LBBs, in a deliberately isolated context? 

This is OD&D without: 

Books: AD&D's Appendix N + the obvious but not listed books (e.g. Lord of the Rings).

Yes, it's not entirely sensible. It's deliberate foolishness. It's like trying to derive the urban planning laws of the Imperium of Man by examining Warhammer 40k gaming tables, or starting with a gasoline motor, some spruce, and some cotton and trying to reinvent the airplane. And yet, sometimes, you can learn a great deal from deliberate foolishness.

I love normal basketball too, with two teams trying to beat each other with solid defense and set plays, but we have all the normal basketball we could ever want. Surely, once every 100,000 games or so, you can find room for one pointless, silly, juvenile farce.

 Troy State 253, DeVry 141: Pretty Good, Episode 12 (Jon Bois).

Wikipedia

1. Appendix N-1

How can you answer "What is OD&D like?" if you can't say "It's like Lord of the Rings" or "Sinbad" or "Three Hearts and Three Lions"?

To put it another way, what could a reader plausibly guess were the influences on OD&D, if they weren't aware of the actual influences? 

There are no right answers, but here are my thoughts:

The Implied Setting

  • OD&D's wilderness is sparsely inhabited, enormous, and non-pastoral.
  • The world is full of ruins, mystery, and the supernatural.
  • The game's setting is implied to have a mix terrain types: "clear", woods, river, swamp, mountains, desert, city. Deserts and arid plains are emphasized, as are seafaring adventures.
  • Military forces are small (a few hundred at most) and cluster around leaders who are potent in combat.
  • Factions and large political structures (other than cosmological alignments) are absent.
  • The implied theology is dualist but not necessarily oppositional. Law and Chaos are two facets or approaches, but the implication is that multi-alignment groups are possible. It's not a kill-on-sight division.
  • The world is hierarchical. Levels of dungeons, of people, of monsters, of currency, of spells...

Wikipedia

2. Texts

Record of the Three Kingdoms

There are three types of people: those who know a lot about The Romance of the Three Kingdoms (by reading, television, or video games), those who know nothing, and those who know less than they ought to. I'm in the third category. I've read the historical novel at least twice, and I can spot the major figures and events, but it's a thin coat of knowledge over the slippery surface of bafflement

But I recently read the Sanguozhi Pinghuathe vernacular precursor the historical novel. It's in the genre of Ripping Yarns, or Suetonial History as opposed to Herodotian History; a fast-paced story of supernatural events, gossip, and battles designed to keep the reader's interest.

I'm going to quote the most of the Origin of the Yellow Scarves chapter, because its twists and turns provide a perfect summary of the work's tone. It also features a dungeon crawl and a miraculous scroll. 

Now we will speak about something else. Right now, in the year in which Emperor Ling of the Han has ascended the throne, bronze and iron both rang out. The emperor, startled, asked his high ministers, “Has such a thing ever happened in past?”

The Prime Minister Huangfu Song stepped forward from the ranks and replied, “This has happened twice from the ancient times of Pangu to the present. Long ago in the Spring and Autumn period, when the Son of Heaven, who was King of Qi, ascended the throne, bronze and iron rang out for three days and nights. The King of Qi then asked his great ministers, ‘What good or bad fortune is foretold by this ringing of bronze and iron?’ He asked three times but all of the high ministers were silent. The King of Qi was furious and summoned the grandee Ran Qing, ‘You are a grandee, why is it you cannot explain this? I will set a term of three days for you; you must reveal the fortune it signals, good or bad.’ The King of Qi did in fact not receive his ministers in audience for three days.

“But, when Ran Qing returned home, he was deeply depressed and unhappy. A family tutor at his mansion noticed the sorrowful expression on his face and asked the grandee, ‘Why are you so unhappy?’ The grandee answered, ‘Teacher, I will tell you. All the bronze and iron in the world are ringing, and when my lord and king asked me whether this predicted good fortune or bad, I truly had no idea. Now the King of Qi has given me a time limit of three days, and if I do not come up with an answer I will be charged with a crime.’ The teacher replied, ‘This is easy!’ The great grandee exclaimed, ‘If you know the answer, you will be appointed to office and receive a substantial reward. What of the fortune, good or bad, of this affair?’ The teacher replied, ‘It doesn’t predict any good fortune or bad. It only predicts that a mountain will collapse.’ ‘How do you know?’ The teacher explained, ‘Bronze and iron are the offspring of the mountains and mountains are the progenitors of bronze and iron.’”

“The great grandee Ran got the meaning and immediately went to court to report to the King of Qi. The latter assembled his ministers, and grandee Ran stepped forward from the ranks and reported, ‘The ringing of bronze and iron does not predict any fortune, good or bad.’ The King of Qi asked, ‘What?’ He replied, ‘It predicts that a mountain will collapse.’ The ruler asked, ‘How do you know?’ And he reported, ‘Bronze and iron are the offspring of the mountains, and the mountains are the progenitors of bronze and iron. It is neither lucky nor unlucky.’ The King of Qi was highly pleased and promoted Ran Qing to higher office and rank, to be held by his sons and grandsons without interruption. Only a few days after Ran Qing had reported to the throne, one of the peaks of Flowery Mountain collapsed. So, Your Majesty, this affair does not predict good fortune and does not predict misfortune.”

It was no more than a few days after he had finished speaking that a memorial arrived from Yunzhou, stating that a hole had appeared at the foot of Mt. Tai, as big as a cartwheel and of unknown depth. The court dispatched an emissary to investigate whether this was a lucky or unlucky event.

Let us now talk about something else. At some distance from this hole there was a mountain house, the mountain retreat of Old Master Sun. The Old Master had two sons, the elder of whom took charge of the farm, and the younger of whom studied his letters. He was going to be schoolteacher Sun, but he suddenly contracted leprosy: all his hair fell out and his body never stopped oozing pus and blood. The stench offended his father and mother, and that’s why they built him a thatched hut more than a hundred paces behind the farm.

His wife brought him his food each day. Now one day, his wife brought him food early in the morning. It was the third month of spring and when she arrived at the door of his hermitage and saw the full extent of his illness, she could not bear to look at him. Covering her mouth and nose with her hands, she gave him his food but leaned away from him.

The schoolteacher heaved a sigh and said, “A wife is supposed to share your house when alive and your coffin when you’re dead. But—if even my wife can’t stand me when I’m alive, how much less can others? What’s the point of living even a day longer?”

After he had finished speaking and his wife had gone away, he came to the conclusion that he should find a place to die. He took the crutch he used in his illness, and put on his pus- and blood-stained shoes. After going twenty or thirty steps straight north from his hut, [4b] he saw a hole. He put down the staff, took off his shoes, and straightaway jumped into it. But inside the hole it seemed like someone carried him on his back and laid him on the ground. He completely lost consciousness. After a long time, he suddenly came to and opened his eyes to have a look; straight above him he saw one dot of blue sky.

The schoolteacher said, “A moment ago I was desperate to kill myself, I never expected I would escape death!”

After a time in utter darkness, he gradually saw a bright light straight north of him. About ten paces after he started walking in that direction, he saw a staff of white jade. But when he tried to take hold of it, it turned out only to be two leaves of a gate standing ajar. When he pushed that grotto gate open with his shoulder, it was as bright as day. He saw a stone mat and sat down on it to rest for a while. Tired, he lay down on the stone mat and fell asleep. But when he suddenly stretched himself out, his feet touched something soft. And when he arose with a start, what did he see? Doomed to an end was the four-hundred-year-old empire of Han, just because this schoolteacher reached this very spot!

The schoolteacher saw a huge python, a motionless coil—from fat head to tapered tail—three foot tall. Immediately that python escaped into the grotto. The schoolteacher followed the snake inside the cave, and although he didn’t see the snake, he did see a stone casket. He lifted the lid of the box with his hands and found one scroll of text. He took it out and read it from beginning to end. It turned out to be a text to cure all 404 diseases. It made no use of the eight kinds of eight herbs of the Divine Husbandman. It did not involve refining, matching, or curing with heat. Nothing was turned into pills or powders. No activants were used to get it down. On every page were prescriptions for cures; for every kind of symptom all you needed was a cup of water over which the correct incantation had been spoken—you would be cured as soon as you swallowed that! When he came to the passage on leprosy, the method prescribed was a famous prescription for treating the disease of our schoolteacher. When he saw this, he was filled with joy. He took the heavenly book with him, left through the grotto gate, and sat down on the stone mat.

Now our tale divides again. When the wife of the schoolteacher brought his food again, she couldn’t find the schoolteacher. She came back and informed her father-in-law and he immediately set out with the elder son and others to search. When they came to the hole, they saw his staff and his pus- and blood-covered shoes. The father and mother, elder brother, and wife circled around the pit, weeping. After some time they could hear someone calling from the pit. They fetched a rope and lowered it into the hole with a branch at its end to save the schoolteacher. When he appeared from the pit and father and son saw each other, they were deeply moved. When they were done crying, the schoolteacher said, “Father, don’t be sad and anxious anymore. I found a heavenly book that will cure my symptoms.” They immediately returned to the farm together. He took one cup of pure water and swallowed it into his stomach when he finished reciting the incantation. His leprosy was immediately cured, and his hair and skin went back to their original state! Later, no matter the distance, people came to seek treatment and every one was cured. They offered him as a contribution for his services cash and goods worth more than twenty thousand strings and he ordained roughly five hundred or more disciples.

One of these was called Zhang Jue. One day he took his leave from his teacher, “My old mother back at home is advanced in years, so I request a leave of absence in order to take care of her.”

The schoolteacher replied, “When you leave I will give you a book with famous prescriptions, so it doesn’t matter if you don’t come back.”

The teacher instructed Zhang Jue, “With these famous prescriptions you will cure all complaints and diseases in the empire; but never ask people for money. Abide by my words.”

After Zhang Jue had left his teacher and returned home, he treated diseases in all places he passed through; everyone was cured but he never asked for money. Zhang Jue said, “If I cure you, all of your young and adult males will follow me as my disciples—there is no claim on the old.”

Zhang Jue roamed through the four directions and ordained more than a hundred thousand disciples. He recorded their surnames and names and their places of registration, and also the cyclical year, month, and day of their birth. “If I want you for a mission, when that written notification arrives report with the speed of fire. And all of my disciples must abide by the meeting time. Anyone who does not come upon receiving the notification will certainly die. All those who do not follow me will be visited by disaster!”

So suddenly, on that day the Yellow Scarves rose in revolt against the Han, Zhang Jue’s notifications were dispatched throughout the whole world and within a few days his disciples had all arrived at Zhang Family Village, thirty li to the east of the capital of Guangning Commandery in Yangzhou Prefecture. Zhang Jue and two of his nephews gathered the whole in this village, and when they had all assembled, he shouted, “You two younger brothers bring them over here!”

The two younger brothers brought out four bundles, and when these were opened in front of Zhang Jue, they were filled with yellow scarves, which they distributed to the troops and the captains wore … Yellow Scarves. Zhang Jue instructed his troops as follows, “Today the empire of the Han dynasty is bound to end and I am bound to rise. If one day I will be lord, the greatest soldiers will be appointed as princes, the lesser ones will be appointed as marquises, and even the bottom rung will be appointed as prefects.”

When this meeting was over, they had no armor or weapons at all. In the beginning they all wore soft battle clothing and carried only rakes and clubs. But the leaders, Zhang Jue and the two others, led these one hundred thousand men and first took Yangzhou to provide battle dress and armor, bows and swords, saddles and horses, and all other weapons.

Setting out with their army, they started from Guangning Commandery in Yangzhou Prefecture. Whenever they came upon some village, they took that village; whenever they came upon some district, they took that district—they took countless counties and prefectures. Whenever they came to a place, whole families were enlisted in their rebellion. Those who did not comply were either killed, conquered, or enslaved. Occupying two-thirds of the Han empire, the Yellow Scarves had amassed three hundred sixty thousand people in total.

-Records of the Three Kingdoms in Plain Language, trans. Wilt L. Idema and Stephen H. West

In summary, we have:
-A ruler asks for someone to interpret an omen.
-The ministers are baffled.
-A wise tutor explains.
    -A sinkhole opens.
    -A leper falls down it.
    -He discovers a scroll that can cure any disease.
        -This the previous two tales are revealed to be the origin of a faith healing sect.
        -The faith healing sect rebels.

And all this related at a breakneck and uncritical pace. It's great stuff. You could easily imagine that OD&D, with its scrolls, dragons, bandits and larger-than-life heroes, drew from this source directly. It's also a hierarchical world.  

2. The Golden Peaches of Samarkand by Edward H. Schafer

Patrick Stuart has a great writeup over on False Machine. This book fit perfectly into the OD&D setting that was congealing in my brain. A sprawling all-devouring empire, cycles of civil war, and exotic goods from unmapped and dangerous lands beyond the borders. The book is largely from the perspective of the core, but that works for OD&D; the gold-bearing magic-item-laden wilderness described by the text is the land of the campaign.

3. Great Game Books

Or "Whoops All Massacres." 

For this project, they're more for a sense of sparsely populated mountain kingdoms than for accurate historical detail. 


3. Film & Television

The Desert of the Tartars (1976)

I can't explain why, but this film struck me as OD&D adjacent. A crumbling fortress overlooking a deserted city and a vast, utterly lifeless wilderness. Distant armies. The blind rituals of Law. The fear and allure of the unknown. Yes, this is fudging the timeline a bit, but it's too good not to list.

Everything about this, minus the rifles, screams OD&D to me. A small band of soldiers, mounted leaders, a mule with supplies, a distant ruined castle, a haunted landscape. More than Arthuriana, more than Hollywood Medievalism, this is what it seems to be all about.

 


The Romance of the Three Kingdoms TV Series (1994) 

I've been watching the excellent subtitled versions put out by the Gentlemen of the Hàn. The costumes and scale feel perfect for OSR games. The series with its limited extras (well, relatively limited) and practical effects feels like the kind of wargaming that OD&D was designed to support. 

It's cheating a bit, as OD&D predates the series by twenty years, but it's still worth watching.  

OD&D castle generation produces characters and groups that strongly resemble groups of Three Kingdoms heroes (well, minus the Wyverns). There's no need to adopt specific terms, given OD&D's highly abstracted armour and damage system. 

Viy (1967)

Circle of Protection from Evil? Undead? Gargoyles and magic? Undead creatures galore? Surely the creators of these strange little brown books saw this film and incorporated it into their rules.

Other Films

  • Satyricon (1969). Less for the details and more for the texture. Cyclopean ruins, ogres (if not named as such), and baffling events in the wilderness.
  • Sadko (1952). Well, if can't have Sinbad...
  • I was going to suggest Journey to the Beginning of Time (1955) as a "Well, if we can't have Harryhausen / Well, if we need dinosaurs..." but it's very possible that Gygax (et al.) saw the US TV cut of the film

4. Setting Specific Interpretations

The implied OD&D setting that congealed from this project isn't a specific reference to any one real-world location or culture. I wanted to do the bare minimum of initial work and let the setting develop as the game progressed.

I loosely based the hex map on the region around the Fergana Valley, as it's one of the few areas in the world where all the OD&D terrain types are represented on a 5-mile (or 15 mile) hex scale. D&D hexes are enormous but in historically sparsely populated and inhospitable regions, they start to make a tiny bit more sense. There's one castle in a huge region because there's one spring of any considerable volume in a huge region. There are only a few villages because herds need to remain mobile (especially given the contents of the OD&D random encounter table). Anyone who farms in OD&D is either a sucker, capable of truly heroic self-defence, or under the protection of a local army.

I wanted mountain hexes to feel like actual mountains. Sure, you can cross any ridge of mountains, but passes are useful. "There's a dragon guarding this pass" is a perfect adventure plot, but it doesn't work if mountain hexes are just lumpier desert hexes.

Picking a real-world location helps me visualize the terrain, weather, and environmental pressures. The valleys look like this so any farms have to look like this. If you climb this peak, you can see here. A lot of hex maps don't feel real. This one, at least to me, does. 

Reading into the OD&D encounter tables and monster descriptions, Dwarves are rich in magic items and want gold. Elves are poor in magic items. One of the oldest posts on this blog is about the ravenous hunger of civilizations for wood. Why do untouched and uncleared forests exist in OD&D's wilderness? Elves. And Dryads, who can't move far from their tree, and Ents, who can turn even a determined party of woodcutters into meat paste. Elves can't or won't smelt; no smelting means no iron; no iron means no top-tier magic armour or magic weapons. They are the outsider-elves of Icelandic mythology.

Orcs are traders. Visually, they're people. They're the only faction that seems 'civilized', for lack of a better word, if "inter-tribal hostility" is read in a slightly euphemistic light. Some of them live in caves; very sensible, give the number of incredibly dangerous flying creatures. They have wagon trains. Nobody else has wagon trains. Presumably, it's Bandits vs. Orcs out there, fighting at night.  

Su Jian

Theology and Evil Priests

Not Evil as in "Clerics who do Evil" but Evil as in "Clerics of Evil." Evil days, an evil name, an evil omen. Clerics of discord, of death, of funerals, of broken hearts and broken contracts, of famine, plague, storms, and tears. Priests of death, but death is necessary. Not the cause of Evil, but its monitors, its propitiators. 

You need some Chaos Clerics around. Too much Law is stultifying. Dead stone and undisturbed dust, not living flesh and growing plants. Also, the dead start to rise if there's not enough death-energy around. On the other hand, too much Chaos and it's difficult to get anything done. Chaos clerics are self-disorganizing.

That's the high theological argument, and it might even be true. But on a practical, boots-on-the-ground everyday religion level, the Chaos and Law Clerics are just two different schools, monastic traditions, or disciplines. OD&D doesn't have devils or angels. It's interested in the material world.

In the Lands Beyond the Western Desert, the local clerics (not the Sai Empire clerics) are monastic. They use the title "Molgon" for Evil High Priests and "Molga" for Patriarchs (and Su-Molgon / Su-Molga for Vicars/Evil Priests and up, with other yet-to-be invented titles for the rest). In OD&D's incredibly dangerous wilderness, having a local cleric who can cast Finger of Death is pretty darn handy. 

Evil Clerics studying death get funny ideas about avoiding death entirely. This happens with Law Clerics too (Raise Dead is a great temptation). Who could have guessed that applied theology leads to megalomania? Just as Empires tend to civil wars, Monasteries tend to schisms and tyranny. 

Famine - John Charles Dollman

Tiers of Sapience

Men, Elves, and Dwarves can benefit from Raise Dead. Hobbits, Orcs, etc. can't. This is... kind of weird and uncomfortable in a setting, but it's also a worldbuilding opportunity. Hobbits are reformed Hobgoblins trapped in samsara. They cannot be raised by Raise UndeadYou can't escape the churn unless your foot is on the highest rung of the ladder. A virtuous Hobbit can be reincarnated as a Human and get a chance to escape. 

Kicking down the gates of Heaven and creating a better system could be a goal for a very high level campaign. Alternatively, it's just one of those things. It's only relevant after death, and only known for certain by high-level Clerics, and Raise Dead isn't guaranteed to work in any case. OD&D is not interested in fairness. And people don't need factual excuses to divide the world into "obviously superior us" and "easily slaughtered them." 

Or maybe elevation is not tied to virtue or vice, good or evil, but to some other property or behaviour? Wealth, perhaps (given the GP for XP system)? But then, why are Dragons less sapient than other creatures (as they only have a chance to be able to speak)? How mysterious.

Reincarnate is the Magic-User equivalent of Raise Dead. In modern D&D terms, it's applied chronomancy. Grab the wheel of reincarnation and give it a good hard spin. Someone out there had a child, raised it, and then magic whisked them away and deposited them in front of the PCs. Two lives, two sets of memories. You didn't skip the queue, you just fast-forwarded the tape. Every use of this spell kills a person's future.

Final Notes

This deliberately context-less reading of OD&D produced an interesting setting. It's still got OD&D's bones, but some of the game's oddities (from wargaming roots, unusual editing, or authorial intent) can flourish if read with an open (or deliberately warped) mind.

2025/11/10

OSR: OD&D Session 1: The Ring and the Marmot

Running a vintage RPG is like running a vintage car. It's fun, but it'll make you realize how much you miss power steering, disc brakes, and seatbelts.

The GLOG is like a handbuilt hot rod. It does its job well, but is more of a heap of loosely linked hopes than a practical everyday vehicle. But you built it yourself and you know what it can do... what will  make the crankcase turn into a cloud of tinsel and smoke. The mutant AD&D version I use for testing is like a rusty station wagon. It still runs, but every part has been replaced at some point, and you wouldn't sell it to a friend. 

Running OD&D is like driving a Model T Ford. It's possible, and it's entertaining, but it's also a bit stressful. I decided to run a by-the-book OD&D game. No initial worldbuilding beyond what's in the books. No outside knowledge of Lord of the Rings or Three Hearts and Three Lions. No Greyhawk, no Strategic Review, just the 3 Little Brown Books, some dice, and some guesswork.

Wikipedia

The Setting

I cover more details about the implied OD&D-derived setting of this game in this post, but this was the pitch the players heard:

The Sai Empire is slowly emerging from a period of civil war. Fabled kingdoms and distant lands that used to send tribute to the capital slipped into independence and myth. The lands beyond the Western Desert are unmapped, untamed, and, so it is claimed, rich beyond belief.

Soldiers of disgraced warlords, drifters, criminals, dreamers, and adventurers are trickling across the desert. Most die. The wilderness is incredibly dangerous. An eagle the size of an elephant carried off a cart and two horses. Giant worms rumble under the surface. Elves stalk the forests. 

But if you survive, and if you prosper, you can be anything. Found a kingdom, a dynasty, an empire. Get rich. Discover world-bending magic. Just watch out for the storm giants, bandits, dragons, and undead.  

The PCs 

  • Gorgontooth the Unslain, Dwarf. Plate armour, shield, helmet, battleaxe. Wishes to become a famous hero. Seems not to understand that "unslain" is the bare minimum qualification.
  • Elizabeth Greenslade, Magic-User. Scribe to Gorgontooth, recording his heroic story. Her Sleep spell is possibly just Elizabeth reading her draft.
  • Chad Bloodsworth, Fighting Man. Plate, sword and shield, rope, and mild paranoia.
  • Lurp, Hobbit. Chad's squire, acquired during the wars. Plate, sling, and spear. A reformed Hobgoblin. 
  • Tim Eonwalker, Magic-User. Disreputable seller of fake potions and false prophecies.  
  • Alcone Darkwell, Cleric (Chaos). Tim's accountant. 
  • Jacob Tallerand, Cleric (Chaos). Anxious spotty teenager. Was on a tomb-robbing expedition. Tried to raise their friend from the dead with a scroll. It wasn't a scroll of Resurrection.
  • Opum, Skeleton. Jacob's friend. Bow and arrow and 2 HP. 

Every player brought at least one interesting twist to their PCs. We learned that Hobbits are reformed Hobgoblins and that they were involved in the civil wars of the Sai Empire. There's a line between too silly. "I want to play a barbarian named 'Arnold Baconandegger' and everything I say is a quote from a movie" is, usually, too silly. "My cleric is an accountant, and my magic-user is their disreputable client" is the perfect amount of silly. It helped establish that the Sai empire has banking clerics.

If Opum survives, as the text suggests, they'll level up to a 2 HD Ghoul, a 3 HD Wight, etc. I ruled that Opum had to use the Skeleton stat block and couldn't wear armour, making them exceedingly vulnerable, but with the usual Undead benefits.    

The OD&D character sheet I'm using. Based on the timeless sheet by Dyson Logos.
 

The Adventure

Arg-e Bam, from The Desert of the Tartars (1977)

After a long and perilous journey through the Western Desert, the PCs reached Fortress Vallat, the last outpost of the Sai Empire. A heap of mud and stone in the desert, inhabited by around 100 flea-bitten and worried soldiers, the fortress felt precarious. It flew a dragon-kite, a construction of wicker, silk, and mirrors designed to warn any nearby dragons that the fortress' light catapults were armed and ready, but the soldiers rarely ventured far from its walls.

With their knowledge of Imperial paperwork and their air of scholarly superiority making the soldiers more talkative, and Tim and Alcone learned of a recent bandit attack. Everyone knew the bandits were hiding in an old tomb in the foothills, but the fortress couldn't spare the forces for a proper reprisal. Anyone who did so would earn the thanks of Ho Tjatbosk, the local Imperial governor (whose territory extended no further than a catapult shot from the fortress' walls), as well as all the bandit loot they could carry.

The PCs had bonded by their journey. Seeing that the fortress was not a source of instant wealth, they decided to take on the bandits.

07.05: Fortress Vallat
08.05 Bandit Camp

With the aid of a sketched map and some Dwarven stone-sense, the PCs were able to locate the entrance to the tomb without too much trouble. 

Fighting bandits underground seemed like a bad idea, so the PCs decided to camp on the hill above the tomb's entrance. Anyone leaving it would be clearly visible, could be attacked from above, and would have to climb a steep hill to reach the group.

Side Note: this was the first "Wow, that's a good plan." moment of the game. I hadn't expected the PCs to simply wait for the bandits to split their forces.  
As the sun set, a group of 16 bandits emerged from the tomb. Before the PCs could attack them, the large rock next to the tomb's entrance shook itself awake. Jaws slavering and eyes flashing, a two-headed Hydra attacked the bandits with ravenous hunger.  
Side Note: The Hydra was the first successful random encounter roll of the session. OD&D's wilderness is deadly. If the PCs had run into it, it probably would have killed them all. Instead, one problem solved another. Lucky PCs; unlucky bandits. I described it as a two-headed hydra because my brain misfired, but I used the stats and HP of a six-headed hydra. I think I interpreted the roll as "d8 heads", not "4+1d8 heads". 

The Hydra attacked, snapping and devouring several bandits. The bandits, in turn, were either unable to hit the lizard or unable to deal critical damage. After a failed Morale test, the handful of survivors fled into the tomb, pursued by a badly wounded but still angry Hydra.

Wikipedia

The PCs cautiously descended to loot the bodies, when a sudden swarm of eight feral hogs emerged from the tomb's entrance. They ran through the group, nearly striking several PCs, and fled oinking into the night.

Side Note: I rolled attacks for the boars, but somehow they all missed. As you'll see later, my dice favoured the PCs this session. This was another knock-on effect of the random Hydra encounter; it cleared a room and some potential enemies. 

After waiting a few minutes, the PCs descended into the tomb. In another sensible decision, they decided to immediately track down and finish off the wounded Hydra. They descended the stairs (1), ignored three metal doors (4,5,6) and a side passage, and followed the trail of Hydra blood and mangled bandits to another set of stairs (7).

As they descended, the Hydra charged, its one remaining head snapping at Gorgontooth the Unslain. Luckily, Opum the Skeleton fired an arrow into the Hydra's open mouth, smashing its brain just as its fangs closed around Gorgontooth's torso.

Side Note: Initiative in OD&D is rolled on 2d6. The Hydra had 10; Opum got 11, hit, and dealt 4 damage. The Hydra had exactly 4 HP remaining. We got the Initiative sequence slightly wrong, so the attack against Gorgontooth - which would  have nearly killed the Dwarf - was rewound. It was the closest possible shave.

Chad Bloodsworth burnt the Hydra, to prevent its heads from regrowing. The PCs decided to explore a few rooms before returning to the first level. A room to the south (12) contained a mysterious well. A room to the west contained a small pile of gold... which the PCs found suspicious. Lurp the Hobbit threw a rock at it, revealing the gold to be real gold, but surrounded by a carpet of centipedes!

With the aid of some lamp oil and a torch, the PCs burned the swarm before it reached them. Alcone Darkwell, Cleric/Accountant, started to have regrets about this new tomb-robbing lifestyle. 

The PCs bagged the gold, as well as mysterious wooden staff under the debris. It looked magical, so Tim Eonwalker grabbed it, but couldn't figure out how to activate it.

Side Note: A randomly generated Staff of Control Plants was, perhaps, not the most useful item to find in a plant-free dungeon, but that's how random generation goes.

They returned to the first level and opened the three metal doors (7,8,9), revealing only magical darkness beyond. The PCs briefly debated sending someone in with a rope tied around their waist, but nobody volunteered. 

As they continued to explore, another swarm of centipedes - perhaps disturbed by the firey demise of their brethren on the 2nd level - emerged from cracks in the stone. The PCs dealt with them quickly with oil and torches.

Side Note: This was the only successful random encounter roll so far, and centipedes - though potentially deadly - are still one of the better options on the OD&D random encounter table. It's possible for PCs on level 1 to run into 2d8 4 HD level-draining immune-to-non-magical-weapons Wraiths! 

The PCs found a few more gold pieces and another dead bandit in the pigsty (2), and some spare torches in an empty room (8). They also discovered a fountain (3), with a statue of a robed figure holding a book. Gorgontooth the Unslain guessed that it was sculpted by magic, and that the water was also probably magical. Several PCs took a drink, but the Chaotic clerics sensibly declined.

Side Note: The fountain cast Bless on Lawful characters (only Lurp the Hobbit), healed Lawful and Neutral characters for 1d6, and dealt 1d6 damage to Chaotic characters. Luckily, Lurp went first, and seeing the results none of the Chaotic characters risked it.

Also, I couldn't remember the term "pigsty." My brain came up with "piggery", to much merriment.

The party descended once again. They explored a storeroom (14) and stocked up on rations, spotted a staircase (15) but did not approach it, then found a bandit encampment at the end of a hall (23).  The bandits that would have occupied the bedrolls and tables were scattered around the dungeon thanks to the Hydra. 

The PCs heard faint music from the door to the west (23) and guessed that a few more bandits must be inside; more than 2 (judging by the three-part harmony) but less than 100 (judging by the room size). 

Chad Bloodsworth decided lure one out. Some oddly convincing cries for help attracted one bandit. Lurp and Chad grabbed him, but, as both were clad in plate armour, made an unholy racket. A brief and confusing interrogation, they determined that "around 20" bandits were on the other side of the door. 

The singing continued from inside the room, but in a slightly strained way, as if one singer was trying their best to cover up the sound of martial preparation.

The PCs prepared a very cunning plan. They assembled in front of the door, plate and shield fighters first, then kicked it open. Thirteen bow-armed bandits, with one higher-level leader, stared back at them. Before arrows could fly, Tim Eonwalker cast Charm Person on the bandit leader, unsuccessfully. Elizabeth Greenslade cast Sleep on the bandits, successfully knocking out nine of them. Lurp stunned one of the awake bandits with a rock. Suddenly outnumbered, the bandits immediately surrendered. 

Side Note: The plan was very risky and relied on good initiative rolls (or a 2-in-6 surprise check), but Sleep was practically guaranteed to take out a large number of bandits. It's a pity Charm Person didn't work, because a Level 4 Fighting Man would have made a mighty hireling, but it was a good attempt. 

The PCs forced the bandits to reveal their loot, acquiring two 2,000gp diamonds and a 6,000gp piece of jewellery; a decorative cityscape intended as a gift for the Orc city of Vardovarri. They also released the bandits' prisoner. The Orc warrior Kchut explained the whole situation to Lurp, as they both spoke goblin, and none of the bandits did. Gorgontooth listened in.

The bandits, Kchut related, had a famous leader called "The Marmot", who claimed to have a plan to conquer Fortress Vallat with the aid of a magic ring. While exploring down the well (12), the Marmot apparently perished. Dashtar, the current bandit leader, took over. The bandits are all afraid of a "cat-monster" somewhere else in the dungeon, and roast unhelpful prisoners using the fire pit traps to the south of the barracks (23).

The PCs openly debated executing everyone, or leading them back to Fortress Vallat, or throwing in with the bandits and forming a raiding crew of their own. They eventually decided to disarm the sleeping bandits, tie up the others, and lead them through the dungeon as mobile trap-finders. Chad Bloodsworth agreed to take on Kchut the Orc as a hireling. 

When the group approached the third staircase (15), the bandit leader Dashtar kicked one of the tied bandits down the stairs, then turned to run. The stairs turned into a greasy ramp, sending the restrained bandit tumbling into darkness. A spine-chilling roar shook the dungeon.

"The beast!" Dashtar cried, scrambling to escape. Chad Bloodsworth and Lurp tackle the bandit, while the rest of the group left the plate-armoured fighters behind in headlong flight. The hideous shaggy head of a Manticore emerged from the stairs, turned to look at the group, and swung its deadly spiked tail up the hallway.

Six manticore spikes shot outwards.  Six spikes struck home. All six rolled 1 damage each.

Baffled at their luck, Chad and Lurp dragged Dashtar around the corner, and the Manticore retreated to its lair to feast. 

The group debated retreating from the dungeon and splitting their wealth, but, buoyed by the lack of random encounter rolls, their new hirelings (voluntary and otherwise), and the prospect of a powerful magic ring, they decided to continue.

They came up with an excellent plan to explore the well (12). They threw down torches until the cavern was partially illuminated, then lowered the lightly restrained bandits on ropes, and then threw down weapons.

The 12 HP Giant Leech in the pool, as well as the Zombified corpses of five unlucky bandits, quickly overcame the four bandits and Dashtar. Opum the Skeleton, with tireless accuracy, leaned down the well and shot arrows at the survivors until the room seemed safe. The had plenty of arrows to waste; they took every arrow from the bandit encampment and heaped them around the well.

The PCs used all their remaining rope to build a sturdy ladder system, then descended into the cavern (25). Jacob Tallerand went first, and immediately started searching for the Marmot's corpse and its fabled ring. Heedless of danger, Jacob sprinted into a side cavern (26), found a body with a glowing fire opal ring, cut off the corpse's finger, and slipped the ring on.

Side Note: I misread my own map and put the Marmot's corpse in (26) and not (30), but so it goes.  

A flash of fire lit up the cavern, as a 8' tall being of smokeless flame emerged from the ring. "I am the servant of the ring," it intoned. "What is your will, o master?"

Jacob's eyes lit up. "Bring me a scroll of Raise Dead!" he cried. 

"This is within my power," the Djinni said, and vanished in a blast of flame. A few moments later, a scroll appeared before the startled cleric.

Side Note: Yes, technically Djinn in OD&D can't grant wishes or make scrolls. A cruel GM could  have created an illusionary scroll, but I am not that cruel. It's a real scroll (possibly stolen) but I anticipated a few problems. First, despite the group's luck, I expected that Level 3 of an OD&D dungeon would quickly thin the herd, making the choice of who to raise interesting. Second, the scroll is a fragile scroll, and could easily be damaged or destroyed. Third, raising Opum the Skeleton is Jacob's main goal, and it would conveniently turn a Skeleton (and potential Ghoul, Wight, etc.) into merely a Level 1 Fighting Man. 

"Yes!" Jacob shouted.

"What was that?" the rest of the group inquired from a safe distance. "Did you find the Marmot's body?"

"Uh, no, this was an unrelated thing," Jacob quickly lied, rubbing the ring again. 

The Djinni reappeared with a whoosh. "What is thy bidding, my master?"

"There's a Manticore in this dungeon. Go fight it," Jacob said excitedly, pointing vaguely in the right direction. The Djinni flew off like a comet.

It returned a few minutes later, with several ragged holes in it's burning torso. "I fucked up, o master," it said. "It's too strong. Ooow. Ooooowww..." It sank slowly into the ring, until only a pained face was visible on the gem's surface. 

Side Note: Run the numbers. A Djinni is a 7+1 HD creature (rolled 19 HP), AC 5, dealing 2d6-1 damage. The Manticore is a 6+1 HD creature (rolled 16 HP), AC 4, dealing 1d6 damage... and capable of firing 6 1d6 crossbow shots at once. The Djinni hits the Manticore on a 9+ (1x0.6x6=4.2 average damage. The Manticore's tail attacks hits the Djinni on an 8+, with a +1 bonus for close range. (6x0.7x3.5 = 14.7 average damage). The rolled damage worked out more-or-less the same, except that the Djinni didn't even get a hit off before taking serious damage and fleeing. 

"So we've got a weak Djinni," Chad Bloodsworth said. "Fantastic. Didn't the Marmot want to take on Fortress Vallat with this ring?"

"Maybe he wasn't very smart. I mean, he did die to a giant leech," Alcone Darkwell replied.

Gorgontooth the Unslain searched the leech's watery pit for treasure, finding a few more coins and not catching any leechborne diseases.

"My flesh is clay," he explained. "That's how Dwarves are."

Side Note: That's how dwarves are in this setting, I guess. Dwarves are made of clay, Hobbits are reformed Hobgoblins, and everyone is scared of Elves for reasons we have yet to determine.

The party ventured north (27), but entered a cave with a quicksand floor. Jacob Tallerand, Tim Eonwalker, and Alcone Darkwell started to sink, but quick work with ropes and spears pulled them out before they vanished forever. The party skirted the edge of the sand and proceeded west (28).

The slate floor of the cave was trapped. Thin plates of stone rested on a grid of thicker supports, above a 30' deep pit of spikes. 

Elizabeth Greenslade discovered the trap when the group was halfway across the room. She did not survive the fall.

The group froze. A wrong step in any direction could be deadly. As they debated their next move, two ash-streaked robed figures came around the corner, raised their hands, and cast spells at the PCs.

Side Note: The encounter I rolled was "Evil Priests", and an undiscovered room to the north contained two Evil Priests, so it made sense for them to be attracted by the noise and ambush the party while they tried to navigate the pit traps.

The first Evil Cleric a Reversed Cure Wounds spell on Tim Eonwalker, dealing a whopping 3 damage, which was enough to kill the 2 HP Magic-User. The second Evil Cleric cast Hold Person on Chad Bloodsworth, Lurp, and Kchut the Orc. Lurp passed his Save; the others failed. 

"Attack your frieeeeends," the Evil Cleric commanded.

"None of these people are my friends," Chad argued. It was true. At Fortress Vallat, Chad had carefully explained that the shared bond of travelling did not approach friendship, and that Lurp was his squire, not his friend. 

"Yeah, I just met these people," Kchut said. "I'd barely call them acquaintances. The only person who I'd say is close to a friend is Chad, and you just mind controlled him."

This brilliant telepathic argument gave the group time to act. Alcone Darkwell ran west, safely avoiding the pit traps, but pursued by the mind-controlled Chad and Kchut. Gorgontooth and Lurp opened fire with thrown stones and daggers, lightly wounding one Cleric.

One Evil Cleric used Turn Undead, sending Opum the Skeleton fleeing west. Both Evil Clerics then retreated around the corner, out of line of sight. They apparently hoped the mind-controlled Chad and Kchut, along with the pit traps, would weaken the rest of the party.

Side Note: I forgot that Evil Clerics can't cast Turn Undead. Maybe they were... Good Evil Clerics? Oh well.

Jacob Tallerand decided to leap forward, hopefully avoiding the traps, but failed. The slate floor split under the spotty cleric, and he plunged his death.

With slightly more caution, and some judicious arguing over the wording of the Dwarf's trap-finding abilities, Gorgontooth the Unslain and Lurp the Hobbit charged the two Evil Clerics. Gorgontooth slew one, ending the Hold Person spell before the mind-controlled PCs could make their attacks. In return, the other Cleric brained Lurp with a mace. The valiant Hobbit fell.

Gorgontooth the Unslain, with a whopping 7 HP, fought the remaining Evil Cleric for several rounds. He even had time to take a swig from his wineskin full of fountain water, restoring 3 HP. 

Up the corridor, Alcone Darkwell and Opum the Skeleton opened a sliding stone door, revealing a red metal door (33). They opened this door, revealing three Minotaurs with enormous axes. Alcone screamed, slammed the door closed, and ran east.

Side Note: I could have had the Minotaurs pursue, but the comic timing was too good. 

Gorgontooth finally managed to slice the second Evil Cleric in half, then returned to reveal the safe path across the pit trap room. 

With four of the eight starting PCs dead, and some excellent treasure at the bottom of a 30' spiked pit, how will the party proceed? What else lurks on Level 3 of this dungeon? Will the survivors retreat, level up, and return, or cut their losses and flee immediately? 

Wikipedia

Prep & Final Notes

Pre-session chatting, character generation, and dinner took about 1 hour, which isn't too bad. 
I could have done a better job explaining AC and the to-hit-AC values. 

3d6 down-the-line stats produced some mixed characters, but stats don't matter much in OD&D. 

I printed off a quick-reference inventory + weight page, which really sped up the gear buying process.

I had two copies of Greyharp's One Volume OD&D rules printed for the table, but I think a game like this works best if everyone has a copy of the rulebook(s). For future games, I'll print off some more. 

Lurp the Hobbit can't be revived by the scroll of Raise Dead (it's Men, Elves, and Dwarves only). But they could be Reincarnated. Hobbits cannot enter Heaven and are trapped in the cycle of samsara. 

OD&D is not a difficult system to run by the book, but it does make you miss all the little houserules, modifications, and shared wisdom (or shared foolishness) that modern-ish OSR games include.

Item-based problem solving was a highlight.  

Everyone agreed that mapping was tedious and slowed down the game without adding much of value. I tried to include several Gygaxian map tricks in this dungeon, but they didn't lead to interesting gameplay (at least compared to other types of gameplay). The mapper had to switch focus constantly, I had to remember to read out room sizes and try to describe entrance and exit locations, etc. For future sessions, I'll go back to my usual methods of revealing a pre-printed map.  

The entire session (including character generation and dinner) took 5 hours. I think that's a pretty decent pace of play, especially with two novice players.