D&D was Written by Scrooge, who Died before Reforming

There are passages in AD&D that are so egregious that I think it should be defacto a RULE that anyone praising the game should automatically be compelled to at least address them, if not to outright condemn them. And honestly, it needs to be said explicitly: "AD&D is a good system, but that shit about the paladin's warhorse, that's just wrong. Don't pay any attention to the passage on page 18; the writer of that should be ashamed."

These are arguments I put aside a long time ago, and being forced to revisit them, and then describe them as they're written, makes my blood boil. It took me three passes to get through introduction of "alignment" as a concept in a way I felt I could do so legitimately, and now today it's the paladin's warhorse. Here's my text:

At 4th level, gain a mystical warhorse. This is a magnificent creature that is called for, and certainly no ordinary horse. In size and appearance, it is a heavy warhorse, a destrier from knightish tales; in intelligence, it has 5 to 7 points, so we assume — though the books do not state this — that is it capable of understanding the paladin. If literature is to be embraced, this understanding should pass both ways. The rules state that the warhorse has five "hit dice" (5d8), which are rolled and added up, and +5 more hit points added. The number of hit points per roll, however, cannot be less than the paladin's level — which means, if the paladin seeks the horse at 4th level, then a minimum of "4" must be rolled on each d8, which can be managed by rerolling lesser numbers until the correct minimum is obtained. A paladin of 8th level would ensure that every die equalled 8 hit points, so that the warhorse would have 40 +5 h.p., or 45, the most the warhorse can have regardless of the paladin's level above eighth.  

Hereafter, the rules for the warhorse in AD&D become a crude effort to contain the benefit of the horse while imposing unnecessary constraints upon the paladin; if the paladin falls from grace, for example, then the horse will abandon the character and, by the rules, no offer is made on how the horse is retained should the paladin find redemption for the fall. While one book in the rules states that the horse will "magically appear," another rule book stipulates this does not mean "physically," but that the paladin becomes aware of the horse's location, within a ride of seven days. Thereafter, the paladin must face an ordeal to "win" the horse: capturing it if it's wild, overcoming an evil fighter in mortal combat — or some other difficulty that will take a number of days to prove the paladin's mettle. This sort of demand for something the character has already earned by reaching a given level is a common, petty motif in AD&D. It can be followed, but it means the rest of the party must sit about while the paladin acts alone, using up game time, with no real expectation that the paladin will fail in the effort — especially since we're also told that a horse like this cannot appear more than once in a ten-year period. It would take a particular kind of DM to set up this ordeal in a manner that the horse could be lost for that period of time. It's not really a good example of game play and in practice, it is a rare DM who feels compelled to impose this on a paladin. We should consider this: if the paladin has reached 4th level without falling from grace, is this not already proof that the horse is deserved?

I can't just let the rule sit without comment. The very idea of the expectation upon the player speaks of a miserable, miserly person who feels he must yank the player's chain. The voice throughout the books shows a recurring distrust of the player, a need to keep the DM empowered as a corrective force and a habit for turning every advancement for the player into some probation that has to be earned out of pure meanness.

It is sometimes hard to speak glowingly of a game whose writer and chief purponent was such an insecure, small-minded, grudging, shabby, ungenerous little troll. Personally, I'm glad he's dead.